I inhale the cereal, without taking a breath. I’m running late as always and promised myself to not leave the house hungry because I waste money on poor food choices. I choked a bit, tried to breath and swallow at the same time. I don’t recommend it. The last bite, no more cereal left, I pick up the bowl and drink the sugar-filled milk. Slam the bowl down to wipe my face like a savage with a piece of paper towel. I say a piece because as I get older I get worst at ripping the paper towel from the spool. I get up with the bowl in hand; drop it off in the sink and walk into the living room.
I put on my jacket, and look inside my bag to make sure everything I need is there. “Notebook, check; Book I’m reading, check; phone charge and plug, check; water bottle, check; headphones, check.” This is why I hate watching re-runs of Friends, I’m fucking saying check every time I mention something I have.
Now to pocket check myself, I promised I would never leave the house again without my wallet because then I can’t get anywhere, no money, no metro card and have to come back all the way home to get them. I’m not going to say check, wallet. Keys, won’t forget these again because then I can’t get into my home. Most importantly phone, let’s be honest we can’t live without it, yes it’s here.
Okay now to turn off the TV. I often wonder if I’m the only person who needs the TV in the background all the time. Where’s the remote? I look on the couch and in-between the cushions, on the coffee table, under the couch, bookcase, kitchen, counter, tables, and nothing. Run into the bedroom and nothing, where the fuck is it. Going crazy looking for this damn thing. What seems like a few minutes looking turns out to be 15 minutes. I need to leave, fuck it I have no choice, drastic times call for drastic measures. I will have to turn the TV by hand, off.
I grab my bag and put it on my shoulder and start to walk out. I need to piss, walk back to the bathroom, I put my bag on the couch. I walk into the bathroom and take a piss and on the sink counter is the remote. I grab the remote, obviously after I finished peeing, and obviously after I washed my hands. I take it back into the living room and put it next to the TV. I decide to ride my bike to the train terminal, running a bit behind. I grab my bike and go.
I cruise down the street and take in the morning air. Off to an okay start but something tells me it’s going to get better. I’m flying down the streets with no traffic in site. I’m making good time and I can see the train station. I put my bike in a rack and lock it. I walked to the platform and the train is coming in. I pull out my ticket to be ready and reach for my headphones. Fuck I forgot my bag, I inhale to keep me from yelling at myself. I turn around and go back to my bike. I’m consumed by the frustration, I was stupid enough to forget my bag.
Now I’m flying home, cutting through the streets. I’m taking sharp turns barely missing parked cars and the occasional jogger. The whole time in my mind yelling at myself, oh shit a dog, swerve, of fuck the curb, and face plant into my neighbor’s lawn. At least I’m on my block. I get up battered and bruised but determined to make it home. Grab my bike that now has a bent wheel, and drag my broken bike and busted ass home. I drop the bike at the door, don’t even care anymore. I walk into the living room and put my bag on over my shoulder. My body really hurts. I pull my phone out of my pocket, dial, “Hey, I not making it in today, taking a personal day… don’t ask will tell you tomorrow.” I drop my bag and walk into my bedroom. This time I face plant into something softer, my bed.
Maybe I will have a better start tomorrow.
Day #21 SJD
Copyright © 2018 Segundo Juan Devora. All Rights Reserved
Segundo Juan Devora 