Now (Chapter 1.2) draft

“Nor beast of blood or raven of air”


“Seriously” Do you think for one divine moment that I could actually get out of the house without forgetting something.”

I think to myself as I rush to get to work.  I narrow eye the pile of personal paraphernalia that nourishes my daily routine.

Messenger bag full of junk that I will never use but never the less absolutely have to have or I will just die.


Lunch carelessly thrown together so badly it gives me a good excuse to buy lunch.




Seems we are in order “Capt Checkoff get ready for light speed” I mutter to myself while hurriedly chucking the bag across my body, tuck in lunch and keys to said bag and grab coat. One last scan over the tortured interior of my esteemed domicile.. hmm looks like the raccoons came in made camp then died. Not one thing was left unmolested.  Cushions on end. No surface left uncovered.  Okay, I have to make a night of cleaning and sorting.


Feeling accomplished and on top of things… well at least I had a plan in place to be accomplished and on top of things. I close the door behind me and look around the street.  Feeling the chill in the air I remember my coat and drop my bag with a clank on the porch.  Realizing that I can feel cold rough wood I peer at my feet….my adorable monkey toes waving a fleshy hello at me.  Great…….

I grab my bag and shake it and listen for the clank, doesn’t really matter that I just dropped them in seconds ago.  I found out years ago that Goldfish and myself have the same amount of retention for trivial things and the exact location of where I casually stuffed my keys was one of them.  After 5 minutes looking thru every zippered pocket on my rather awesome messenger bag, bought specifically for all the pockets and secret storage areas. I finally found them, triumphantly opened the door, noted the state of disarray ..again and stomped to the bedroom for shoes.

I would really like to say this was a unique day, but it wasn’t, in fact for all my mental cajoling of what I was going to do different I always kept the same chaotic routine.  I had read everything there was to read on how to improve your ..well you name it, love life, personal life, business life, mental attitude, actually most of those books were part of  the paper fortress on the lower end of the couch near where the end table was last witnessed.

The bedroom was littered in a similar fashion to the overall theme, at least I had being consistent on my side. Kicking clothes out-of-the-way I found one boot and then starting doing a forensic search for its mate.  After tossing everything in the room twice I sat down on the bed hard and looked at myself in the full-length mirror that was propped up against the wall.  What was wrong with me? A full-grown women with no ability to even swan her way out of the house every morning.  How is it that hard?

I instantly started cataloging my physical faults the minute I saw my reflection.  Hair, needs cut?, color? something..Makeup…was that eyeliner on my nose? Oh god are those more wrinkles. Weight, pudgy.  This was my mirror routine.  Fact was that I didn’t really think that I was that bad. A bit pudgy, and I looked younger than my 35 years.  A natural strawberry blonde with slanted blue-grey eyes, an old boyfriend told me they were ‘bedroom eyes’.  A roundish face which is why people probably thought I was younger and a short, athletic frame. Today’s look is an urban tortured artist worn by our lovely model Tranta I say out loud as I turned in the mirror. Missing boot almost forgotten, I wonder if I could do a milk carton ad for it. It was probably lost and lonely without its mate, wandering the streets looking for a little polish and getting hooked on gum…

The phone ringing brings me out of my thoughts. “Crap” work… as I re-enacted “key search” for my phone.  Finally realizing it was sitting next to me on the bed just shoved under my thigh.  I checked the screen to see who had called and found that it wasn’t work the display just lamented “Caller unknown”. Pondering who it could have been I spied the missing boot. HAH!, I grabbed it before it became another tragic victim to the bedroom of doom.


Check. …well, you get the picture.  Again on the porch, I started to head up to the bus stop. Man!!! I missed the only bus that would get to the downtown area with just enough time to slide into work 7 minutes before 9:00 AM.

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