I am the least professional person I know. I get to work promptly at 9:02 every.single.day. How does a person not just start their “getting ready” procedure 2 minutes earlier???? I hate it every day that I get into my car at 9:00am and yet, every day I get into my car at 9am.
Now, the really odd thing is: I often walk to work; on those days I’m usually a couple minutes early. So, I either get in my car at 9 on the dot or I leave the house on foot at 8:45… where is the happy fucking medium there?
I will say this about that… I don’t how… but almost every day I face some kind of time-draining force. Whether it’s an ill-timed phone call, a random text, a Facebook comment that absolutely has to be addressed (ok… remember… we’ve already established that I’m highly unprofessional – I don’t always make the wise choice regarding my morning schedule). It also bears mention that there is some kind of time-warp going on in my closet; not in relation to my attire, dear God I put little to no effort into that mess.
My closet houses a mirror that I use to apply mascara. It’s the only makeup I wear. Mascara is on an equal footing with sneakers (see what I did there???) – I am addicted to both. I want every kind in every color (ok, I just use black or brown mascara – the blue is a thing of the past… but you get my meaning). Anyway, I step into that damned closet to curl my lashes (shut up, I still do it… and they look snazzy) and swipe on 1 or 70 coats of mascara and the next thing you know… 12 minutes have passed.
There’s a kid in our town who I’m convinced is a time traveler (you don’t wanna know… it’s a long story but there are 3-piece suits and ruffled shirts going on there) and I.AM.CONVINCED. our closet was the portal.
Anyway… I often set out with the best intention of getting to work on time only to be foiled by life (or bad decisions). Today… was no exception. I typed this out in a text message to Dan earlier, complete with emojis – I’m pretty sure it was the emojis that really brought it to life, but I’ll try to do it justice here…
7:15am: *thinking* ya know, I haven’t done my hair for work in close to 18 months… since I’m using today as my rest day, I think I’ll start getting ready early and actually take an active interest in my appearance
7:32am: *still talking to myself because my kids are assholes in the morning so I stay away from them* as soon as the kids leave for the bus, I’ll put Lucy out on her lead then I’ll hop in the shower
7:36am: kids prepare to leave the house, lots of “have a great day”s and “I love you”s from them; I lock the door to send a message. I stand in the sunroom watching them walk up the alley… my thoughts are now centered on my love of the public school system and school buses
7:39am: I unlock and open the door to put Lucy on her lead. She takes off for the kids. She literally looked like those damn dogs that race – all I was missing was the metal gate… I have never seen a living being run that fast in my life. I start yelling for her; the kids turn and, remembering how I locked the door, chuckle and keep walking. I stand there calling her, she continues to run
7:42am: I go in the house for a sweatshirt as I’m still in my pjs and in all honesty – nobody needs to see that mess; I zip up and head out the door in my slippers. My slippers are ok for say… walking to get the paper, they are not approved for chasing Usain Bolt of the dog world.
7:44am: Lucy pulls up and heads back towards the house {I start to relax}. Lucy stops in the neighbors’ yard and poops.
7:46am: Lucy, now lighter and feeling less bloated, runs back to the kids who are actually in their seat on the bus; only the closing of the door keeps Lucy off the bus. Cars are continuing to line up in both directions because, of course we need the biggest fucking audience possible.
7:48am: while Lucy is darting around the traffic I am shouting in a guttural voice, “GET BACK HERE YOU DOUCHEBAG ASSHOLE!” Still in my slippers, hair a mess, thin t-shirt sans a bra, and a sweatshirt that was an obvious ruse to disguise the fact I was wearing a thin t-shirt without a bra
keepin’ it classy, Karen
7:49am: Lucy finally sprints back to the house and tears around our yard like she’s a bull and I’m waving a red cape…
7:50am: she comes to a dead stop at the door, panting and if I’m not mistaken – smiling and reveling in the great fun she just had
7:51am: Lucy is banished to her cage
7:52am: I find the closest real shoes I can find (I have the smallest feet in the house – it didn’t matter who’s shoes I pilfered) and go for the pooper scooper. (Incidentally, Abby’s boots didn’t look so great after trudging through ours and our neighbors’ tall, wet grass)
7:54am: search for and scoop the poop
7:58am: stop at Lucy’s cage to call her more names before heading upstairs
8:01am: step into shower at regular time
9:02am: arrive at work