Five Days, Every Week | Teen Ink

Five Days, Every Week

June 13, 2014
By Jacecreativewriting BRONZE, Tenafly, New Jersey
Jacecreativewriting BRONZE, Tenafly, New Jersey
4 articles 1 photo 0 comments

Every time it rings I feel the noise get louder and louder. It pounds against my ear drums, each time, pulling me out of my dream world little by little until I awaken. I angrily slam the accursed object with my fist to make it stop. Peering over to my left, I read the digital screen twice; that’s how many times it took me to comprehend the numbers, 6:30 it read. Ughhhhhhhh. It’s Monday.
I slowly build up the strength to lift up my torso. A quintessential cartoon yawn leaves my mouth as I half-heartedly push my blanket to the bottom part of my bed.
I harness more strength and force myself out of bed.

My zombie like body stumbles into the bathroom. Reluctantly, I force my hand to turn on the lights. “Agh.” I’m temporarily blinded as my eyes adjust to the new environment. I turn on the shower and the gears in my head start turning again.
I am somewhere between half asleep and fully awake, about three fourths of the way there, I guess. I hear the noise of the shower running, slightly imitating a waterfall, which assists in ending my nightly bladder hibernation. One or two minutes later I step into the shower.
Oh my god. I desperately try to adjust the settings so it’s not boiling, but not freezing. It takes me three mini-burns and a close encounter with Antarctica before I get it right.
As I attack my scalp with soap and nails, thoughts start coming back about what needs to be done today. I texted myself last night reminding me to do assignments during lunch that I was either too lazy to do, too busy to do, or a combination of both. The stress of the week and how long it would be until Friday starts to sink in.
Other thoughts start to crawl from my subconscious into my awakened mind. I really should apologize to Todd for getting pissed at him the other day. That was kind of a mean move on my part. I start to analyze the situation. Yea, I get kind of defensive and lash out at people when I mess up. Lesson learned, for about two weeks until I forget about this conversation that I had with myself.
I get out of the shower and frostbite-air-freezingness attacks my wet body. IT’S SO COLD! Like, who told winter to come early? What happened to my temporary morning sauna?
I desperately reach for a towel and dry my hair in an attempt to warm up.
I walk back to my room slowly and crouched over in an attempt to lock in as much heat as humanly possible. I reach my doorway. My hand scans the wall as I feel around for the light-switch… Got it!
My eyes, having adjusted to the lights of the bathroom are perfectly welcoming of the brightness. I stare into the sea of books, sneakers, clothes and miscellaneous objects in an attempt to locate the clothes I had laid out the previous night.
I hastily throw on a pair of jeans. The tiny fibers irritate my sensitive skin. Immediately I am unsatisfied with my decision I need more comfort…..

I wiggle out of them and reach for a pair of nice warm sweatpants. As I put them on I fantasize about going back to sleep. They feel just like the pajamas I had on just minutes earlier. The sweatshirt I had on previously looks fine with the sweatpants so no need to change that. Just to make sure I do a quick mirror test: I pass.
“TIM GET DOWN HERE, YOUR GOING TO BE SO LATE!!!!” I hear my mothers screeching voice bounce off the walls and into my eardrums, wishing they could reject the unwanted noise pollution.
I dart to the bathroom and slip on the water from my shower. Frustrated I angrily throw a random towel on the floor and stand on it. Crap, now my socks are wet. Am I out of socks? I hope not… My eyes turn to the mirror and wipe the fog off, again a byproduct of my shower. I smile, thinking back to learning about condensation in my science class last year. That class was hilarious, OMG Mrs. Degota hated me so much. I look into the now defogged mirror and see a half-smerk appear on my face. Good times… good times…
I grab my tube of gel and squeeze. Please don’t be empty… please don’t be empty…. YES! The last bit of gel pops through the little opening in the front. I reseal the tube and make a mental note to have mom pick up some more. Can’t run out of that stuff.
I spread the gel throughout my hands and pushed it into the front of my hair. I take one last look in the mirror to critique my work… Ok, I’m presentable.
I close the bathroom light and walk swiftly to my room. The first thing I go for is my phone, instinctively my thumbs unlock it and quickly check through my notifications in record time. My life-on-a-screen is then safely stowed away into my back pocket.
I hastily rush down the stairs, ready to take on the week.

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