alpaca princess (renniekins) wrote,
alpaca princess
renniekins

A druggy morning

I awoke this morning to the sound of my doorbell. Slowly my consciousness swam its way up through layers and layers of fuzzy cotton to wakefulness. I propped myself up on my elbows, looking around in confusion, feeling drugged. My clock said 10:03. What day was it? Was it morning? Was I supposed to be doing anything? Who could be ringing my doorbell?

I didn't go answer the door. Whoever it was could ignore my car parked in the driveway and assume I wasn't home. It took me quite some time to clear my head enough to realize that it was thursday, I was supposed to be at work, and I was very late. I squinted at my alarm clock, and the little "on" light was lit, meaning....well I don't know what it meant. I certainly had no memory of hearing it. I still wasn't alert enough to properly panic, as I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled blearily down the stairs to the bathroom.

No time to shower. I changed my undies, found my black jeans, and pulled them on. I looked at myself in the mirror and, for some reason, I decided that I should just stay in the shirt I woke up in. It wasn't wrinkled, it looked good with the black jeans, I seemed to be already wearing a bra (I have no idea why I went to bed still wearing my bra and the nice long-sleeved embroidered black shirt I wear sometimes for skating; obviously I wasn't thinking clearly), and it would save me the trouble of picking out something else to wear. I pulled a red fleece vest over it though.

Socks, shoes, brush and braid the hair, jacket, and out the door I went around 10:30, ready for another exciting and fun-filled day at work. At least there's coffee here. Oy!
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 4 comments