Alarm clocks are the devil; especially on Saturday mornings when I am forced to rise at 9:00 AM. My beauty rest has already been broken twice since the new day has started. First, I'm disturbed by a text message from my restless boyfriend at 1:27 AM and fell asleep on him mid-text. Then at about 4:38 AM the heavens decided to fill the sky with thunder and lightening. Storms are the worst way to be awakened.
When I was younger, Saturday mornings usually meant: Grande Breakfast. Those were the good days because now I'm lucky to salvage one strip of bacon. So this Saturday morning I decided to whip some pancakes until I realized we had not one type of butter, non-stick cooking spray, or grease in the house. Burger King it is, at least their frappes are tastey.
I work at Kentucky Fried Chicken, or KFC for short; it sucks, but is no different from any other fast food job. My co-workers are the only reason I come in with a smile on my face. We're kind of a family, some of us, and we try to make the best of a Saturday morning. Normally I'm there by 11 AM.
Shopping Shopping Shopping
I get off of work at 4 PM, but can't relax because I need a pair of shoes for the homecoming dance by 8 that same night. It probably would've been a better idea to find those earlier, but I just decided to go to the dance last week. Did my mother intentionally give birth to a procrastinator? Last minute shopping is such an inconvience.
The Spawn of Ellis
I absolutely adore my god-siblings. It's about 6 when my mother takes patrol over them for the night and next morning. These kids have so much energy that the government needs to consider them as a backup resource.
Before I can go home to begin getting ready, I have to make one more stop. It's eyebrow threading, more like water torture. Beauty truly is pain, the outcome, however, is like God's glory raining down upon my face.
So the dance started at 8; I left the house around 8:30, which was close enough. I'm a bit exhausted, but it was my senior year and I was determined to participate in something school related. The music was mediocre. My hair, makeup, and wardrobe were well put together. I enjoyed the time with my homies and we definitely made the most of those few hours.
I stayed at the dance until it ended at 11 and my feet are killing me. Never again will I wear high heel shoes for 3 hours; actually, I most likely will continue to rock them. I walk through the door and my god-siblings are still wide awake. Time for the babysitting instincts to kick in. A warm bath and blanket always does the trick, but not quite all of it.
A dark room always does two things: creates suspense and promotes sleep. In this case, it promoted sleep. The Ellis' have too much energy, but not enough to resist the pillow's whisper. Midnight is rolling around and I am finally able to rest my own head.
As previously stated, I was very tired, but of course I can't go to bed without something unexpected happening. It was a call from my boyfriend on this particular night and as sweet as a good night call may seem, I was a bit disappointed in my lack of ability to remain awake. My day must end because my new one began at 7 AM