I’m late!
How did I let this happen? At which point did I lose track of time and structure? Relax! I’m in control; I have always been. I just have to find the other shoe. These must be the most uncomfortable shoes ever made, but they go perfectly with that gray business suit, which I hate as well. Regardless, they serve the purpose of impressing my clients. Somehow words have more credibility when delivered in a suit and heels.
That is neither here nor there now. I’m late!
I will just check my phone one more time. He will call or text any day now. I know what it is like to have a full schedule. It’s fine! It is like that time I was late for presenting my thesis. I had to cut myself off the whole world to finish it. It takes longer finishing a task when you are not passionate about it. Why did I go to law school again? Oh yeah! Because my dad did and so did his dad. But since my dad had the unfortune of having a female child, I needed to graduate with honors. If I were a boy, probably just graduating would have been enough. Yet I needed to prove that I have what compensates for lacking a pair of testicals.
Shit! I’m late. There is that damn shoe. The entire time it was here under my desk where my phone sits. Did I pay my phone bill? Is that why I’m not receiving texts? Of course, I did! I always do! I’m in control. I had full control the few months before the prom. I needed to drop to size 2 to fit into that dress. Self-image oriented Patrick would have never gone to prom with a size 4 girl. He must have checked his hair a hundred times during the car ride. I can almost taste that horrible tea that causes diarrhea in my mouth right now. I drank it religiously morning and evening for the last few weeks before the party. I was only down to size 3 with only few days left! I have almost not achieved the goal expected of me and I was late!
Thinking about the tea makes me want to go to the bathroom, but I don’t have time. I’m late. All that bending over under furniture to look for my shoe messed up my hair, and I need a good 10 mins to fix it. This unruly, curly hair has always been a struggle. Although I enjoy wrapping in around my fingers when I’m alone, it is out control and has a mind of its own; I’m not! “let’s fix this hot mess” like my mama used to say. It is not the first time this “hot mess” caused me to be late. Was it my 6th birthday party? My mama put me in this pink princess dress. She went to check on the cake when I saw my cousins playing cowboys outside. How did I not control the urge to join in the games? It doesn’t sound like me. Yet again, seems like 6 years old me needed to learn more control. I messed up my dress and my hair. “A disaster” said my mama while she wiped my dress and my body vigorously. She tugged and pulled on my hair with a pace and force that seemed to carry a feeling of disappointment within. Disaster diverted, and everybody said I looked like a princess. Everything was under control even though I was late!
I can’t be late anymore! He will call I’m sure, he is just late. I’m in control. I think enough time has passed and I need to use the bathroom anyway. Do I have time? Can I make time? Do I have control over time? How do I turn back time? Why are those damn sticks so complicated? Does it have to be 1 line or 2 lines? Why didn’t I get the one that clearly says positive or negative? What does 2 lines mean again?
I’m wasting time! I will deal with this later. It’s fine! I’m in control.
But for now… I’m late!
How did I let this happen? At which point did I lose track of time and structure? Relax! I’m in control; I have always been. I just have to find the other shoe. These must be the most uncomfortable shoes ever made, but they go perfectly with that gray business suit, which I hate as well. Regardless, they serve the purpose of impressing my clients. Somehow words have more credibility when delivered in a suit and heels.
That is neither here nor there now. I’m late!
I will just check my phone one more time. He will call or text any day now. I know what it is like to have a full schedule. It’s fine! It is like that time I was late for presenting my thesis. I had to cut myself off the whole world to finish it. It takes longer finishing a task when you are not passionate about it. Why did I go to law school again? Oh yeah! Because my dad did and so did his dad. But since my dad had the unfortune of having a female child, I needed to graduate with honors. If I were a boy, probably just graduating would have been enough. Yet I needed to prove that I have what compensates for lacking a pair of testicals.
Shit! I’m late. There is that damn shoe. The entire time it was here under my desk where my phone sits. Did I pay my phone bill? Is that why I’m not receiving texts? Of course, I did! I always do! I’m in control. I had full control the few months before the prom. I needed to drop to size 2 to fit into that dress. Self-image oriented Patrick would have never gone to prom with a size 4 girl. He must have checked his hair a hundred times during the car ride. I can almost taste that horrible tea that causes diarrhea in my mouth right now. I drank it religiously morning and evening for the last few weeks before the party. I was only down to size 3 with only few days left! I have almost not achieved the goal expected of me and I was late!
Thinking about the tea makes me want to go to the bathroom, but I don’t have time. I’m late. All that bending over under furniture to look for my shoe messed up my hair, and I need a good 10 mins to fix it. This unruly, curly hair has always been a struggle. Although I enjoy wrapping in around my fingers when I’m alone, it is out control and has a mind of its own; I’m not! “let’s fix this hot mess” like my mama used to say. It is not the first time this “hot mess” caused me to be late. Was it my 6th birthday party? My mama put me in this pink princess dress. She went to check on the cake when I saw my cousins playing cowboys outside. How did I not control the urge to join in the games? It doesn’t sound like me. Yet again, seems like 6 years old me needed to learn more control. I messed up my dress and my hair. “A disaster” said my mama while she wiped my dress and my body vigorously. She tugged and pulled on my hair with a pace and force that seemed to carry a feeling of disappointment within. Disaster diverted, and everybody said I looked like a princess. Everything was under control even though I was late!
I can’t be late anymore! He will call I’m sure, he is just late. I’m in control. I think enough time has passed and I need to use the bathroom anyway. Do I have time? Can I make time? Do I have control over time? How do I turn back time? Why are those damn sticks so complicated? Does it have to be 1 line or 2 lines? Why didn’t I get the one that clearly says positive or negative? What does 2 lines mean again?
I’m wasting time! I will deal with this later. It’s fine! I’m in control.
But for now… I’m late!
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