Ode to the Day

Helping myself through the drags of a day.

 

Leaving work on Thursday, I went straight to the tanning salon and waited 10 minutes for the deluxe bed. As I slathered on my lotion, I murmured “This is what I need.” It had been a long and trying week at work. Getting up every morning was a struggle.  Each morning my body longed to stay in bed. My mind would then remind me of the many bills laying unpaid on the nightstand. Sighing with anxiety, I would drag myself up, stumble around, and put on some clothes. I really did not care what I looked like, so I always pulled on the first thing I could find. Standing in front of the mirror in the tanning room, I began to feel better. The time on the deluxe bed was 12 minutes, my plan was to enjoy each minute. “Relax,” I told myself. 

A faint beeping sound rang in my ears; it was not the unfortunate alarm that woke me up every morning but the timer on the bed. Immediately, the tanning bulbs went dark and my time was up. I felt like swearing. It seemed nothing that gave any pleasure lasted long enough. The first red light I came to brought me next to Starbucks. On a whim, I turned in and ordered my usual “Tall Iced Skinny Vanilla Latte.” Driving away and sipping my coffee, my thoughts turned to the evening ahead. My kids, teenagers actually, were starring in a play at their school. Of course, I was expected to be there. As I glanced at the clock, it appeared I would have enough time for a nap. My plan would be to get there just as the play was starting. Draining the rest of my latte while pulling in the garage, I parked the car, went inside and tossed myself on the sofa.  I fell asleep immediately. Then I hear the buzzing sound of my cell phone. Grabbing the phone, I looked at the caller’s identification. It was my husband. I answered the phone and his question, hung up and rolled over going back to sleep. A few minutes later the phone buzzed again, it was my husband and he wanted me to meet him at the play. I stretched like the dog when he wakes up from his nap, murmured and complained all the way to bedroom, pulled on some halfway decent clothes. I yawned all the way to the play. I decided it would be best to hit Starbucks again in hopes of waking up. I got to the play and the performance was fabulous. The kids went out with friends afterwards. I got talked into dinner with our friends and wound up eating pancakes at 9:00 at night. The pancakes stayed with me through out the evening. As I pondered the day, I fired up my laptop. I checked out email, online billing, and a few favorite online shopping sites. I didn’t buy anything because I feel asleep. I woke up and shuffled to the bedroom, fell into bed, and slept my way through the night. The alarm buzzed me awake the next morning. I stumbled out of bed and away went my day. I realized my agenda for the day was the same as the day before. I felt like I was Bill Murray in the movie, “Groundhog Day.” It was the exact same day right down to the coffee, tanning bed, and yes, watching the repeat performance of my kids play. Driving home late, after dinner again, with the same meal of pancakes trying to digest in my stomach it hit me: This isn’t the movie “Groundhog Day” yesterday WAS Thursday and today IS Friday. I got home treated myself to zoning out in front of the TV, fell asleep and awoke immediately realizing it was Saturday, my favorite day of the week.

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[Lucy Landers]

Beginning didn't grab me