Note to readers:
This is a deviation from the thread I have been on. "Love and Inspiration" is something that I will be continuing, but this popped up so I ran with it. Hope you enjoy the change and will stay tuned for more posts.
Thank you,
Michael
Angela’s Story
Angela woke with the mind but annoying buzzing sound echoing in the background. She pretty much expected this day to be just like every other. Wake up, go to work, make money, pay bills and move on. The morning routine was a ritual just like everything else in her life. She walked down the hall to the bathroom mission central for her day. All was dispensed with in good time. Teeth brushed and in the shower. Hair washed and body cleaned from head to toe in under ten minutes. I was the regularity of which she kept her world in check, on time and maintained. Angela wasn’t one for thrills. As far ash she was concerned they’re to many in life. Thrill are disruptions, and the more there are the more things get off track. The more life is off track the harder it is to handle.
Needless to say Angela wasn’t very girly. It was a term she hated only because that implied that she was manly which she wasn’t. She would keep her hair reasonable but no fashionable that it would demand more attention than she wanted to give it. She kept herself clean and tidy. Deodorant, but no lavish perfumes for her. She merely saw it as a waste of time and money. There were much more important things in life like staying on schedule.
Just about everything in Angela’s life was rather regulated. Certain things were given certain amounts of time. Everything in her life also was delegated various levels of priority. So that if a certain task, say driving to the park to exercise, took too long and even absorbed the extra seven minutes allowed for the journey she would go else where. If the alternate task took too long as well she would move on to more important matters all together.
The one thing that did not change was her dedication to work. Nothing was more important than work. Everything in Angela’s life pivoted from work, and that's where she was headed this morning. Traffic as usual had foiled her attempt to get any kind of breakfast. She figured this was probably okay seeing drive through fast food left her wanting it two ways. Still hungry and to be in better shape on she continued.
It was seven a.m. when she finally arrived at work. This was acceptable because the clock in her car was nine minutes fast. That allowed her four minutes to get to her station so that she could clock in five minutes early that was allowed by management. The walk only took her two minutes, but this allowed two minutes to get situated, say hello to someone or find her name tag in case she misplaced it.
“Hey, hey, hey...,” it was a really bad Fat Albert impression. It was Monday, it was Carl, Angela would have to be focused.
“Hey Carl watcha up to?”, Angela asked. She usually didn’t like to speak this way, but with Carl she had to. Carl could be a bit clingy. He could be funny on most given days. He didn’t like to leave anyone alone until he got a smile or laugh. Angela was not in a funny mood. She wold resort to chopped words, contractions, even slang to keep the conversation short. All so she could stay on track and on time.
Grinning widely, “Well I’m just enjoying the view, smells ad tastes of this wonderful Monday morning,” Carl answered.
“Yeah man take a deep breath and you’ll find today has a rather sweet after taste,” said Carl.
Carl had switched gears into a stoned out hippie impersonation. Angela had no chance to think she just smiled.
“All right I’ll have to try it later, see ya,” Angela replied smirking.
“LIFES A BUFFET MAN, IT TIME TO EAT!”, Carl continued in stoner land.
Arriving at her station it was time to clock in with a minute too spare. She reached into her right front pocket, and her name tag was not there. It was supposed to be, left pocket, no, back pockets still missing, then she remembered. It was supposed to be a busy weekend for her so she left it in her cubbie at work figuring she wold be running late on Monday. No, she could clock in and start work selling arts and craft supplies.
Days at the store seemed to run together days into nights and nights into weeks and weeks into months. In total Angela had been working there for about ten years. Aside from minor product changes and regular customers, nothing seemed to change. It only took Angela about a year to memorize the store. She was the “goto” gal if you needed something. She could tell you where anything was in the store without looking or thinking. She had everything down so well that sometimes she felt like she worked in a fish bowl. The big widows in the front of the store didn’t help either.
“Excuse me miss,” asked a random customer, “do you know where the birdhouse kits are?”
Angela started to move forward in the direction that they were in.
“No, no that's all right you can just tell me,” said the customer.
She had forgot that she ha her hands full of merchandise that show was stocking.
“Ti is no trouble sir. My pleasure to help it’s my job after all,” replied Angela. It was store policy that all guests be walked to the merchandise that they were looking for.
“Really its all right,” he replied with an awkward look on his face, “I don’t need an escort”.
“Turn around take a right. Go three isles then go left up two sections. They will be on your fright. For you about knee high. Half way down the section,” Angela rattled.
“Thanks!”, the customer replied. Without even making eye contact the gentleman whisked off in pursuit of his bird house.
That would pretty much sum up Angela’s day. Put items away, help guests, and maybe even help people checkout. Then Help run a cash register and back again. The only real stress Angela had at work was her own desire to get enough stock out on the shelves, dealing with unhappy guests, and count money correctly. Finally it would be five o’clock and time to go home.
Unfortunately this was Wednesday. As she drove home a sinking feeling slowly crept over her. She tried to invent excuses for a place to stop none existed. As she got closer to home her stomach began to turn. Her fingers began to dance on the steering wheel. Her breaths became long and more pronounced. Wednesday, why did it have to be Wednesday?
“Okay, okay,” she said aloud, “it’ll be fine. Just a quick stop and up I go.” She pulled into the her apartment building’s parking lot and parked her car. There wasn’t designated spots, but the one she usually used was open. Letting out a big sigh she sat for a moment it was still a beautiful day out.
“How could anything go wrong today?”, Angela said out loud? Soon she wold find out.
Walking down the sidewalk her heart began to beat harder and harder. It seemed like her steps were in sync with the cadence of her walk. Boom, boom, boom sweat began to form on her brow. She opened the front door to her building.
“Damn Wednesdays!”, she whispered again slowly she raised her key and put it in and slowly opened her mailbox. The creaking noise reminded her of the dumpster door at work and the sound of the old doors opening in horror movies.
“Damn Wednesdays!”, Angela whispered again.
Her mailbox was so crammed full of mail that she could barely tell what was what. Quickly she grabbed the mail slammed the door and locked it shut. At once she sped upstairs closed her apartment door behind her and locked it. With a large sigh she looked at the wad of mail in her hand. She didn’t really want to go through her mail. She had remanded this task to Wednesdays. It was Wednesday so she had to do it.
“Bill, bill, junk, junk, junk, bill, junk, junk...,” Angela muttering through her head as she scanned her mail.
“The end, whew, thank goodness,” said Angela. A sigh of relief came over her. She started opening the bills. No large surprises were found. Nothing she couldn’t handle right now. She took the rest to the trash can.
There wasn’t going to be much fun tonight. Tonight was a work night so no running around and acting stupid. Angela went into her modest kitchen and opened the fridge.
“Ah, the usual suspects,” sighed Angela. In her view was some condiments, a few vegetables lying around, though they were quickly reaching their past due date. However after a day like today Angela found what she wanted, a nice cold beer. Nothing was more relaxing than sitting down on her futon and having a cold one. She didn’t care if some people thought it wasn’t lady like. She really didn’t care what anyone thought. A nice cold beer was great to take the edge off a stressful mail day. She proceeded to sit down. Angela had tried cable long ago but didn’t care for it. Angela passed her time sitting on the couch watching one of the selections out of her ever expanding DVD collection.
Thirty minutes passed, and her beer was done it was time for another. Her movie was nearly over it was the lull before the climax in her romantic comedy. She quickly got up and got another beer so she wouldn’t have to hit pause. She continued to watch her movie and found security in its predicable boring of a story. To Angela all such films were the same but the jokes were different. That’s why she would continue to watch time. The movie was over, time for another beer. She wasn’t feeling tired in the slightest so she decided to put on one of her favorite drama TV shows. She had a few of those as well and she nearly had all of these memorized as well.
Six beers gone and she was still wide awake. For some reason she was having trouble falling asleep.
“Its time for the big guns I guess,” thought Angela.
She went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of vodka from the freezer. She poured three shots into the bottom of a glass with ice. Then poured some diet cola on top till it got an inch from the top of the glass. She settled into her button. Watched another episode and finally stared to get tired. When the show concluded she stretched out on the futon and went to sleep. Lights out, night over, and ready to start a new day.
The annoying buzz returned the familiar tone pulled Angela from her futon in good time. Off again she into her routine. Driving to work her mind was on nothing but work. However not all of her as exactly in the same spot.
“What are you doing?”, a male voice exclaimed in her head? It was a vivid flashback of her father. All of a sudden she could see him like she was thirteen all over again. She had been asked to tend to the lawn.
“What were you thinking?”, her fathers words rung so loud and angry in her head? Over and over again she could see the grass she had mistakenly missed. It was an honest mistake her concentration must have drifted while she was mowing the yard. She could vividly see the disapproval in her fathers eyes. The scowl on his forehead left a deep crease between his eyebrows. Angela had the same mark on her face.
“No, no, no, shut up!”, she yelled out loud, and d at once the vision and the words were gone. Al that was left was the mumble of the radio and the traffic outside her car.
