Mornings, Hair, and Chocolate.

I’m not a huge morning person. I hate mornings. The only thing positive about waking up at 5 AM is seeing the sun rise. It’s beautiful.

I usually don’t look beautiful though. With dark rings around my eyes and my hair everywhere, I headed out the door this morning at 6 am, ready to take on the day. I probably looked something like this:
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As I climbed the stairs of my basement and arrived at the ground floor, things started falling out my hands. Of course, I thought. I bent over to get my water on the floor and saw Tracey’s foot. I followed it up to her face.

“Did you brush your hair?” the first thing that came out of her mouth. No. No I didn’t. No, I won’t. I don’t brush my hair. Ever. I have long curly dark hair. It can’t be brushed, it gets combed when I wash it, but that’s it.

I turned to her, meaning for a joke but looking totally serious. “i’m not brushing it, they’ll have to deal with it.”

“That’s a good way to keep a job” she responded.

I looked at her and smiled inside. I planned to put it up and fix it when I was at a red light or something. “I’m shaving it. I’m shaving my head,” the words came out my mouth. I smirked. I got her.

“Good, give your locks to me, I’ll weave them in my hair” She got me back. A faint smile appeared on my face as I hustled out the door into the dark morning.

When I got to my meeting I sat down and around 10 am I started to get hungry. I looked in my lunch box and pulled out a handy dandy luna bar, that I’m supposed to be trying not to eat. It’s a caramel nut brownie bar. I bit into the deliciousness, not paying attention to how I was eating, just taking in the flavor and the meeting information. I got thirsty and drank my water. My entire water bottle.

I have to pee. I got up to go to the bathroom and when I sat on the pot, I noticed something brown on the back of my black dress pants. My brow furrowed as I examined my pants. Oh no. oh no… no no no no no. Chocolate. It was chocolate.

Chocolate crumbs had somehow fallen out of my mouth, as I so carelessly ate, dropped onto my lap and melted under my bottom. I fled the stall and stood in front of the mirror with my back toward it, looking at my butt. I looked like i’ve pooped on myself!! I’m a business woman! I have to LOOK the part!! OH NO!! I panicked.

I quickly took my pants off in the bathroom and stood at the sink, scrubbing and scrubbing. I could feel the lines in my face crease, my heart rate shot up. Here I am. At my work place. Standing in the middle of the woman’s bathroom in my underwear. Scrubbing what looks just like poop off of the bottom of my pants. I eyed the door, not sure what my plan was if someone came in.

Finally, the poop-like chocolate stain was off and just as I put my pants back on in the bathroom someone walked in. I zipped my pants. “Hello! Good day!” I sped out the bathroom.

Later that day for lunch I ate a peanut-butter Banana sandwich. There is a long story for why I didn’t have lunch meat… i may or may not have forgot to refrigerate it the day before (like how does someone forget that…?) And I was eating and eating and eating. Yum.  As I finished my sandwich and looked down. long pause.

Peanut butter. everywhere. I didn’t even know peanut butter could make CRUMBS! I looked down in terror. Suddenly, a seizure-like movement came over me and I started dusting myself off… like maybe if I dust hard enough and long enough the peanut butter will begone!

About two minutes later… I thought I looked better. Maybe I even looked pretty good.

This monkey thinks he looks pretty good too…

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Anyways, while driving home at the end of the day, I found myself reliving the day and laughing out loud. It was a great day! It was HILARIOUS! I would relive it!

I try my best to represent my school and myself very well wherever I go and somehow accidents STILL happen!! The best thing to do is… laugh and learn! I have learned to watch myself as I’m eating.. and to maybe not shave my head in the future… 🙂

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About scarmich

A girl in her 20's looking at love, life, and laughter in the mundane.

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