A DAY

We all have days that seem to be a bit more stressful than we feel can be handled sanely. Here I decided to write a fictional short story to help create a smile or chuckle for those reading and perhaps some may be able to sympathize with the character I’ve created. Here’s to all of the crazy, unpredictable days of the past and future because we know that in the end, it will all be “okay.”

Waking up. It’s hard at times. Your mind starts off spinning with thoughts. There are decisions to be made and little time to spare. You get up, go eat a messy breakfast and hope it digest well with the array of buffet foods you ate last night because you were laying in bed with gas pains praying for relief. Not to mention, your ears are still ringing from the neighbors relentless barking mutts that they claim to be pure bred but we all know they’re just mutts with a barking battery toy that won’t shut off. You toss your cereal bowl in the sink forgetting it’s glass and it breaks in three but you leave it cause you’re already pushing being late for work. Brushing your teeth, washing your face, getting dressed all seem like a Corossfit workout at this point. You’re trying to wake yourself so you pour a cold cup of coffee from last nights eight O’clock pot. Well, it’s about time to head off and then you forget all about feeding your friend’s cat down the road. You ask yourself, “Why did I ever commit to feeding that stupid cat while she’s gone?”. Now you’ve finally made it out the door after falling down the three brick steps. You go inside and bandage a busted knee that’s bleeding a mini Niagara Falls. Okay. In the car now, you drive to your friend’s place to feed that stupid cat that you already forgot the name of so to you it’s just “Stupid Cat.” As soon as you crack the door, the cat decides to dart out of the house as if it’s on fire and runs directly across the road in front of a zipping sports car. The cat now resembles a mini fur rug for a large dollhouse. A deep ache stabs your gut and your heart drops down to your feet. Thoughts of how much your friend adores her “baby kitty” so much and would do anything for her overwhelm you with sorrow. Then you suddenly become frustrated because now your’e officially going to be late for work. There’s no time to do anything with the animal so you drag it’s bloody, limp figure up to the house and put it inside the front door on a piece of cardboard that you hope wasn’t being saved for an art project. You finally get headed down the road for work and at the second stoplight, you look down for a split second and boom! Congratulations, you just rear ended the car in front of you. Maybe you cuss, or maybe you just cry streams of tears, maybe you are still in shock and just sit in silence but whatever you do, you eventually get out of your car and walk up to confront the elderly woman that just experienced whip-lash for the first time in all her eighty years. You call in work and tell them not to expect you that day after explaining what happened. Hours of stress later, you’re back home and you suddenly realize that your’e starving but of course you don’t have any groceries but a can of tuna, half a bag of chips, some cheese, a few cans of tomato sauce, some freezer burnt ice-cream and a frozen bag of peas. So you call up Papa John’s and wait an hour and seventeen minutes to be exact until it finally arrives. After you eat and bedtime has finally come, you walk to the kitchen sink to get water and notice the broken cereal bowl from this morning. You stare, then blink heavily. You don’t clean it up, or bother messing with it. No, you don’t do that at all. You turn out the kitchen light after taking a generous amount of melatonin, crawl into bed and fall into a pizza coma. Of course, forgetting the scenario of the dead cat and the fact your friend would be arriving home in the early morning to find it. No need for an alarm, because now your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing since 5:30 and you say to yourself, “It’s going to be a day.”

KASEY LIECHTY

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

eight − seven =