Step 1:
As soon as the fire fighter sirens start filling my ears
like water to a jug, I know it’s 7:30am. I sit up and gather my thoughts. I
search for the off button on my time-telling device to shut it up and press it,
hard. I collapse back down onto the array of mismatched and scattered pillows,
not prepared for the hell that is ‘waking up’. If you were wondering I do manage to make it out the door everyday. Just.
Step 2:
In a zombie like stance, I pull my right arm and then my
left arm through a faded apricot hoodie that I left lying on the floor the
night before. I glance back at the cocoon, that is my bed and very seriously
consider coming back to it’s open arms. But I don’t, because ‘education is
vital to a successful career’ and with a successful career comes money and
money brings happiness. Don’t even try to deny it. I lift one foot and move it
forward as do I with the second and eventually make it to the kitchen,
attempting to look like I’d been up for hours doing something productive. Mum
sees straight through me, she always does.
Step 3:
I reach for the closest edible item in my kitchen and put it
into the toaster, hoping that it’ll at least be warm. Mum has already made me
tea, so that’s the first good thing to happen to me in my day. I wait two
minutes, trying to keep my eyes open for as long as possible, and reach for
both the margarine and vegemite. I pick my tablets. Two massive greeny coloured
tablets, one pink speckled tablet and one minuscule white powdery tablet. All
claiming to give me a healthy immune system, energy for the day and good skin,
it’s laughable.
My toast should be ready by now, so I scrape on the
margarine (it has to be melted) and
then add a minimal amount of vegemite (key word is minimal) and I sit down at
the table, so ready for the day*.
Step 4:
Breakfast is now done, the time is about 7:45 and I head
down to my room, much more awake and not at risk of hypothermia. I check my
phone, purely because I can’t help myself and after about 5 minutes of getting
completely distracted I set my mind back on the task at hand. I consider
wearing the correct uniform but choose my sports instead, weighing up the
risks, my chances of getting caught don’t seem too bad. As I’m about to slip on
pants, the screaming begins. Madeline Kelly, echoes around the house bouncing
off each wall, I shout back to keep the screams at bay. If I reply she won’t
scream for at least another five minutes. I’m wrong each time. I slow down in
spite, call me a nuisance, but I’m now mad at this point. I manage to dress
myself in about ten minutes, the time is now 8:10. I grab my laptop, phone and
any book in my room and head to the bathroom, well aware that I’m going to be
late for school but not caring enough to hurry up.
Step 5:
The bathroom is mine, my brother is still asleep. The
screaming begins again. I make the rash decision to keep my pace the same. I see my face
in the reflection of the mirror and immediately look away, mirrors were never a good
invention. I find my tooth brush, squeeze the white goo that is toothpaste
onto the bristles of the brush and run it under cool water for no longer than a second*. I
brush for two minutes listening to the screaming echoes and decide to cut my
teeth brushing short. I run a brush through my hair, really not caring enough
to put much more effort than that into it and then retrieve my still unpacked
bag. The time is now 8:20.
Step 6:
I shove the items in my vicinity into my bag not bothering to check if I
have everything and merely hoping. Mum is now in the car; her screams can no
longer reach me. I leisurely take my time walking through the door that takes
me into my garage and I collapse into the car not happy to be leaving home. I
listen to the lecture about how leaving
for school at 8:25 is never going to
happen again otherwise my lazy self can get on my bike and ride to school and
how she hopes to God I get a detention. I merely grunt for an answer. For
the 10 minute journey I reflect over how useless half the subjects at school
are to my actual life and how the most important part of life is surviving and wondering how pythag’s
going to help me survive in life but
if I do say anything mum will just ignore me and say how lucky I am to have
this privilege. I’ll acknowledge that fact and accept it and pretend to dismiss
my previous thoughts entirely. Pretend.
Step 7:
I arrive at school. The time is now
8:37. I am late. But better late than never. Right? Right.
Ha. If anyone does end up reading this they’ll notice two
things, 1) how lazy, melodramatic and ungrateful I am and 2) how I couldn’t
care less. But really, I wanted to convey how many physical journey’s people
endure every single day, mostly without complaint. We endure these journey’s,
no matter how big or how small, no matter alone or with company, to get from
place A to place B. A journey is a process in which we use to achieve a final
destination.
*If you didn’t detect
the sarcasm in that sentence I am sincerely sorry.
*The water must always
come after the toothpaste, never before.
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