Mondays.
Let me start out by saying, "Ew." I cringe at the word and everything it implies. No more weekend. School. Waking up. The list could go on and on and on...
This Monday happened to be exceptionally awful, though. It's a sign that you're day is pretty much shot when you wake up from a bad dream. Now, on a school night, six hours of sleep is a generous plenty, but trying to start your week out on that is not the best idea ever. You might as well crawl back in bed and cover up because the day isn't even worth it. I'm not a morning person in any possible way. I'll just go ahead and throw that out there. So, when I am relieved to have my alarm blasting out my eardrums at 6:30 in the morning, you might say that that night's sleep was anything but restful-a perfect way to set the tone for the day.
I got dressed and came downstairs to World War III in the kitchen. My brother couldn't find his Sunshine polos, so naturally, my mom and he were yelling back and forth. Walking down the stairs, I had noticed two abandoned shirts laying by the front door, but no one believed me. My puppy, Bella, was barking frantically because she had to go to the bathroom. In the meantime, my other brother was pacing around looking for his belt. To try and help, I grabbed the dog, who had finally peed in her crate, took her to her play pen, informed everyone of the mess, and retrieved the "missing" polos. Voila! One problem solved. Somewhere, in between the shirts and me trying to get a bite to eat, Bella had decided her bladder wasn't quite empty. She began pooping on the floor which led to more screaming. I stopped in the middle of fixing breakfast and volunteered to go take her outside to walk so my mom could make lunches. Outside, the grass was wet with morning dew, and my feet were sliding everywhere. With Bella having finished her business, I hurried back inside because I thought someone was honking my car horn. Not the case. Instead, Chancellor had still not found his belt and was calling my dad to try and see if he'd left it in the car. Dad was too busy to look. Go figure. By this time, my mom had just about lost all patience, and I was right behind her. My appetite was gone, and I was just ready to get out the door. Apparently, "I'm not hungry anymore" means "Go ahead and fix me some breakfast, I'm starving" in mom language. So, when my mom handed me a slice of banana bread I had just said I didn't want, I refused to eat it. That was the last straw and, in hindsight, not the best move for me to make. Before I could take back what I had said, I was now the target of all of the screaming. How did I remedy that? I left. I left Chancellor looking for his belt. I left Bella barking. I left the wrath of my mother, and I took John, who now had his proper uniform attire, with me. Bad idea.
As I mentioned somewhere before, I am not a morning person. Because of this, I was huffing and puffing as I drove to school. I'll admit I was probably on the edge of committing some road-rage induced felony. Thankfully, a generous school bus driver sensed my unease and allowed me to make my left turn instead of waiting 15 or so minutes for the oncoming traffic to pass by. Bless you, mystery driver. However, the ride to school was not over. Of course there had to be some random car broken down in the middle of the street. That always happens on terrible Mondays. After several trials, I finally pulled into the high school parking lot sans one brother around 8:10. It was a small miracle that I wasn't late after all of that mess.
The school day brought it's ups and downs. A ton of AP Lit homework, an AP Calculus quiz, a crummy chemistry grade, and one major headache later, I made it home only to find out I was grounded for the rest of the week. Just the icing on the cake.
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