Good mornings, start with
I woke up to the incessant beeping of my alarm clock declaring
the start of another day but I was not ready for that day and
longed to crawl back beneath my quilt and drift off to dreamland
As always though my sense of responsibility got the
better of me and I was soon out of bed and heading for the coffee
machine. The first cup of the day was always a necessity for me
and so leaving the kettle to boil I slipped into the shower
enjoying the warm water which cascaded over.
As I washed my hair I groaned irritably as a long
trail of mahogany hair dye swilled around the plug hole in a
constant stream informing me in its own way that I would soon
need to stock up on some more hair dye.
Buffing my skin until it was red and just beginning
to sting I slipped out of the shower and perched myself on the
side of the bath. Dragging the razor over my legs hurriedly and
cursing violently as the blade cut into the skin at my knee.
Dashing away at the blood with my finger I cursed men and my need
to impress them. Wondering why I bothered to torture myself like
this. Of course the answer was simple. It was always the day's
when you didn't that the, oh so sexy, guy you've been eyeing for
months decides you might be worth a look. Of course when you made
the effort they never wanted to know. You just couldn't win.
Wrapping the towel around me, I pause. I'm sure the
towel was bigger yesterday but then towels don't grow and shrink
do they? No! But people do. Cursing again I head for the scales
and not liking the numbers I see I try in vain to shift my weight
in the hope of improvement. It fails miserably and I'm all but
ready to dive back under my quilt and sink into self loathing
when to my horror theirs a knock at the door.
Snatching my towel up I whip it around my clearly
bulging frame and then search franticly for my dressing gown but
without success. With blood trickling from my knee and wet hair
dripping down my back I scurry down the hall opening the door
just a crack to see Mrs Burch beaming up at me from underneath
her huge mass of purple rinse curls.
"Hello Samantha," She croaks, reaching out a gnarled
hand and throwing it in the direction of the street.
"I couldn't help but notice that you hadn't put your
bins out today. Now I don't mean to be a pest but if we don't
keep on top of these things dear then there's no telling what
might be attracted to the neighbourhood and I'm sure the last
thing you want it to attract the rats. Of course I know you're a
very busy woman what with your little secretary job and all but
I've always been a firm believer that nothing should be more
important than house and home and these little hobby's some woman
have these days such as yours should really not be put before
home and family."
"I'm a little bit behind this morning Mrs Burch." I
replied ignore her little comments as best I could.
"Well dear now that's as may be. But the bin men may
not be behind and then you'll regret it won't you," She chirped
irritating me beyond belief.
"I'll just get dressed and then I'll be right on it,"
I said forcing a smile to my face and closing the door before she
could say anything more.
Glancing longingly at the kettle as I fetched my
clean clothes from the kitchen I let out a sigh. As placing my
hands on its sides I discovered that it was already going cold.
Flicking the switch to boil once more I then scurried back to my
bedroom to blow dry my hair trying to force it into shape with
tongs and clips while it refused point blank to do what I wanted
it too. Finely giving in and admitting defeat I took the easy
option and just stuck it in a pony tail. It wasn't exactly classy
and sexy but it would have to do for today.
Then into my black suit with perfectly clean and
crisp shirt and a pair of black killer hills for effect. I was
finely ready for a well earned and badly needed cup of coffee or
at least I thought I was but the sharp rap on the door soon
forced the thought from my mind as I remember Mrs Burch and the
"Oh good your dressed," she said as I opened the
door. "You know their up the top of the road. If I were you I'd
hurry," she cried, and then scurried away while I rushed to the
garage fighting against the door which had done its favourite
trick and jammed.
I could hear the beeping of the refuse truck as it
reversed down the road but as hard as I fought against the door
it refused to budge. Throwing my weight as hard as I could
against the top the bottom suddenly flew out leaving me sliding
down it and on to the cold tarmac of the drive. Brilliant!
Picking myself up and dusting off my suite I heaved
the door up and slipped inside. Pulling at the wheelie bin, one
wheel of which, had chosen today of all days to go and get itself
tangled in the hose. The hose that I may have lobed in there the
day before when Mrs Burch complained that it was an eye sore
laying, as it had been at the time, across the drive and over the
front garden in a mad tangled mass.
Cursing angrily as I fought to free it and having no
success I simply snatched at the bags inside and scurried to the
pavement where the bin men were already piling up my neighbours
bags. Passing my two to a large, tough looking man with tattoos
covering almost every inch of his arms, I gave a polite smile and
then froze horrified as there on my hand was a large, black and
very evil looking spider.
Screaming I flung my arm in the air and danced around
in a panic worried that it was still on me and certain that I
could feel it crawling over my skin. Tattoo man to my amazement
was doing a very similar dance beside me and it was then that I
noticed the spider fly through the air as tattoo man bashed it
from his hair. The other bin men by now where in hysterics
although weather it was my antics or their colleagues I was not
all together sure.
I hurriedly apologised to tattoo man, who looked
close to having a heart attack, before quickly retreating in
doors as fast as I could. While I was collapsed against my front
door, trying to gather my thoughts I happened to look up and into
the hall mirror.
"No! No! No!" I cried, as I spotted the large stain
on my crisp, white collar that could only be one thing. Bin
juice! Cringing I pulled my jacked off only to find that this too
had smears of the disgusting substance all over it.
"Damn it," I snapped chucking off my clothes as I
hurried to the bathroom. But as I was snatching for my shower cap
I spotted the large expensive bottle of bubble bath and equally
expensive bath salts. The way I saw it there were two options. I
could hurriedly re-shower, re-dress, and rush to work apologising
profusely to my boss for my lateness and risk going without my
coffee till lunchtime or I could run a bath complete with
expensive pampering items, relaxing music and flickering candles,
not to mention a very large mug of coffee, and simply pick up the
phone and feign sickness.
The responsible side of me of course jumped in once
more and before I knew it I was surrounded by the everyday sounds
of the office.
"Robson and son's how can I help you?" I mouthed
along to Hazel's spoken words.
"Hazel! Can you put me through to Sharon? I've been
up all night on the loo. There's no way I can make it in."
Well it would hardly be sensible to wander out into
the world with luck so decidedly against me, would it.