An Exercise in Honesty

i am trying to write a short story explaining my thought process throughout a given day, it is essentially all true, i may change some things to make it mildly interesting or names, but the content is or at least was true.


Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Oh my Buddha, that high, unrelenting, merciless buzzer is the absolute worst, most obnoxious thing to wake up to in the morning. All i want to do is rip that alarm clock out of the wall and chuck it at something hard and preferably explosive. I settle for slamming my hand down on the snooze button as hard as i can. Ah my first violent thought of the day, I seem to have a lot of those, I like to think of myself as a peaceful person but i guess that is solely based on my actions, not my thoughts. I am not really a big fan of the snooze button. It pretends to be your friend saying "yea don't worry, I'll take care of Ol' Buzzy over there," but ten minutes later Snooze turns on you just like every other electrical appliance.

So three snoozes and three betrayals later I finally drag my self out of bed. I stumble over to my desk chair where I left my towel to dry last night, I grab it quickly. Thump, I guess I knocked something over but it is still way to early to care. I head over to the bathroom dragging my feet and consequentially stub my toe. Mumbling curses I hop into the shower and relax as the affectingly soothing hot water cascades down my back. I hum to myself for about five minutes before I realize that I need to get out. It is amazing how difficult it is to turn that little plastic knob that half rotation, knowing that as soon as you do cold will rush in and along with it all the pains, worries and stresses of the day. Something about the comforting water makes every problem seem manageable. After three whole minutes spent encouraging myself I finally work up the strength to shut off the water. Cold strikes instantaneously as I knew it would but it still makes my jump.

Once dried I go to my closet to find some clothes. On the way I dump my towel on the floor and dread about how my mom is going to yell at me for it later. I choose my clothes with painstaking care, I don't like to admit it but I am horribly vain. I care so much about how I am perceived by others. I am too self conscious that I don't let people know how self conscious I am. I check the clock. Damn, I have to leave in like three minutes before I have to leave, I shouldn't have gone for the third snooze. I grab a pain of jeans, a band T, my old beat up pair of rust colored converse, and a worn sweatshirt, looks like I'm going without socks today. I run down the stairs taking them two at a time, I jump the last five. Downstairs I grab my bag and a pop tart, yell at my brother and get in the car.

Once he gets in the car we begin the music war. I put my ear buds in and start listening to some fast paced ska song while my brother listens to either Meatloaf, Phish or, the Beastie Boys shudder. He tries to drown out the faint hum that comes from my iPod completely, I just want to be able to hear more horn then bad rap, I usually loose.


i will continue this piece at a later date because it is becoming too long.