One Sock Left in My Drawer

May 30, 2010
I woke up at 7:07, seven minutes off schedule. It was just like any other school morning: my Dad already off to work, my sister sleeping in, and my younger brother aimlessly roaming the house, until I got to my dresser.


I jumped out of my bed and ran to the dresser, only to find out that I only had one sock left in my drawer. My day was officially ruined.


I ran down stairs to the washer, but my clothes were still in there and they were soaked in water. So I guess the washer decided to break in the middle of the night while I was asleep. This was probably because I shoved just about every article of clothing I owned in the washer. But I said whatever, and ran upstairs. I pulled out my pants drawer, and I almost fainted. For there lying neatly folded in the corner was my ugly diarrhea green corduroy pants that I hadn’t worn since Halloween, when I was a scare crow. I pulled out my underwear drawer, but there was no underwear. I ran to my closet to look for a shirt and I nearly burst into tears, because hanging there right in the middle of the closet was my too-small white shirt that was stained with cranberry juice. I guess I didn’t wash all of my clothes after all.


I laid out my clothes on my floor, so I could really take in what I was going to have to wear for today. So lying there, were my ugly corduroy pants, a white, size small shirt with red-pink stains, and a straggly multi-colored sock with a hole in the pinky toe area. I sucked it all in, breathed deeply, and yelled, "Mom!"


My mom ran up stairs and asked, "What's the problem?" I stared at her, then pointed at the clothes on the floor and said in disbelief, “This is what I have to wear today.” She gave it one good look, then asked with an obvious misunderstanding, “So?” “And why are you up so early anyway?”I met her questioning gaze with an, ‘are you freaking serious look’, and stormed off with my clothes in hand.


I hoped to wash my frustration down the drain with a good warm shower. I stepped in the shower, only to realize that there was no shampoo or body wash, or any form of soap what-so-ever. This just had to be right after the water was actually warm, but I sucked it up it up and walked to my mom's bathroom to get her shampoo, not even bothering to wrap a towel around my waist for the courtesy of my siblings. I got the soap, and walked my naked self back to my bathroom, so I could take a well earned shower. My shower went as usual, double shampoo, condition, then finish off with body wash. I had to settle with bar soap, which presented a problem. For whatever reason, my boyish brain told me to stand on top of the bar soap, which resulted in a disaster. I flailed around the shower, bringing down the curtain and whatever else got in my way. After this I turned off the shower, struggle up from the floor, hung up the shower curtain in a haphazard way, and cleaned up all other evidence.


After my lovely shower I headed to my room so I could change into my clothes, this time with a towel around my waist. Me and my frumpy self walked down to the kitchen so I could get some cereal to eat. Just to my luck, the only cereal in the cupboard was Raisin Bran, which I found disgusting. Then when I picked it up, I noticed there was hardly any in the box. I was so upset that I just threw the box across the hall and grabbed a few pieces of bread for my breakfast instead.


So after my filling breakfast of plain bread, I ran upstairs, brushed my teeth and went to the bathroom. These are normally regular, everyday procedures done by most 6th grade students, but I managed to screw them up. Due to my lack of time, I decided to combine peeing and brushing my teeth, a rather unsanitary and difficult thing to accomplish. After about 15 seconds of that I became overwhelmed with all the double tasking, thus making me lose concentration. I fell over, hit the wall, and for some reason my body didn’t stop peeing so I got it all over the floor. As if that wasn’t enough, somewhere in that incident, I dropped my tooth brush in the toilet. I added that to my list of things to never do again.


I trudged on over to my room, where I found my backpack stripped of all its inner workings. A pencil, pens, notebooks, all of it was all over my floor. In a rage, I gathered up some of the essentials for school and shoved them in my normally organized backpack. I jumped down the stairs by threes in my haste to get to school. I grabbed my bike and peddled off as fast as I could. I was hoping that the graceful bike ride through the sunny roads of Arizona would clear my mind off my awful morning. Well it didn’t.

On my normally pain free bike ride to school, I ran into a car. Not only was it ugly, bright orange, but it was parked. I was busy running through the morning’s events, when BAM !, I hit a car. This left me in a weary state, for I managed to hit my head on the car, my bike, and the concrete sidewalk. Now I had to go to school with a big cut and bruise on my forehead, and ugly clothes. I paced back and forth like I’d seen people do in car crashes before, and thought out my plan to get to school without a) getting hurt or b) making a fool of myself. I concluded that all had to do was take it pedal by pedal, one foot after another, and I would hopefully make it to school.

After my session of hard thinking, I jumped back on my bike and headed for school. On my ride, I saw some first graders running around outside with no shoes, which seemed weird since they should have been at school. I successfully made it to the cross walk before the hill that led to my school, but there was no cross walk aid. This had never happened before, but I considered it good thing because now I didn’t have to wait five minutes for the old guy to hobble his way down the street with his stop sign. I made it up the hill only to be overcome with a feeling of extreme anguish.
That terrible little thought creeping around in the back of my mind was right, it was Saturday.





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