I got up today, while it was still dark, at 5:30 AM, secure in (and distressed by) the knowledge that it was Monday and I had to get ready for work.

     At 8 AM I cleaned up, put on a dress, put on some foundation to attempt to disguise the trunks under my eyes, a little lipstick and a touch of eyeliner and headed out the door dreading seeing my psychotic bitchboss. (Note: I usually wear NO makeup to work but I was trying to cheer myself up. Let me tell you, at this point nothing but winning a $10 million lottery, freeing me from having to work for anyone but myself ever again, would cheer me up).

     As I walked down the four flights to the apartment parking lot, I noticed most of the cars were still in place. But as this is a complex with a diverse population, I didn't dwell on it as people here have all kinds of jobs and work all kinds of shifts.

     I got into my car and when I started it on came the radio, set to the morning talk show in Hartford that gives traffic and weather. Instead of the usual, there was a solemn voice intoning solemn thoughts about one's relationship to Jesus Christ. I thought this was a bit odd but shrugged it off as an ad for a church.

     I drove to the first stop sign in the complex and the Jesus man was still droning on. It wasn't really until then that I got suspicious about what day it was, so I turned the corner, pulled over and took out my cell phone. After finally figuring out how to access the calendar, I saw SUN OCT 19 highlighted on the grid.

     So there I was: all dressed up, no place to go and feeling like a fool (which just happens to be a line from a song I wrote many moons ago - life imitates art).

     Not to waste the effort I had put into forcing myself out the door - not to mention the extra effort I made to beautify myself - I drove out to the main drag and up the road to get milk, which we needed, and cigarettes, which I needed, went to Dunkin' Donuts for an extra large coffee, that I wasn't sure I wanted but figured I really needed, and drove home again. There was my parking space waiting for me, which never would have been the case had this really been Monday.

     I struggled back up the four flights of stairs, juggling 2 gallons of milk, my shoulder pouch hanging open with the carton of cigarettes in it, and my extra-large coffee. I was met at the door by my husband, who laughed immoderately when he saw me walk in in a dress...it's just not going to be a good day...

© 2008 RC deWinter