Hello My Fellow Blog Lovers & Supporters out there!
We are coming close to the end of October and about to dance into November and I don’t know about you, but I have been a bit like a hot mess these past few weeks – Not as focused or productive as I would like to be and not getting to those goals that I so eloquently have put forth for myself. For some of you this sounds normal and for others not so much.
So in my effort to come up with a blog topic for you this week, being in the ‘hot mess’ state that I was feeling, I couldn’t come up with anything. Nope, it would seem that that creativity or inspiration tank was empty and I was perplexed. So instead of beating myself up for it or fighting what I was feeling, I decided to go with it and think outside the box and write you a reenactment of how I was feeling – thinking that many of you can relate, I decided to create it around a short story, a ‘hot mess’ scenario if you will. Rules are meant to be broken right? So here I am breaking my own rules for blogging – Here is my short story – My Hot Mess Monday…
The blaring alarm clock pierces Charlotte’s eardrums, jarring her from her much needed slumber. She reluctantly rolls over and smacks the snooze button with all the strength she can muster. “Dear God, it is too early” she mutters into her deflated pillow. Charlotte takes one last sigh and rolls over, throws the duvet off of her pajama clothed body and gets herself out of bed, takes a stretch and a yawn and shuffles herself off to the bathroom.
Charlotte takes a look at herself in the mirror, her hair is disheveled, her mouth tastes like the bottom of a birdcage, and she has smeared and partially worn off make-up with a small bit of some unknown crusty goop in the corner of her eye. In the upper right hand corner of the mirror there is a little post it note with the quote “40 is Fabulous!” hand scrawled across its beaming yellow hue. Charlotte while rubbing her eye reads the inspirational post it and takes another look in the bathroom mirror, blinks a couple of times at the image reflecting back at her and begins to chuckle and mutter, “Yup I’m fucking fabulous alright.” She shakes her head, opens up the medicine cabinet, pulls out her toothbrush and tooth paste and begins to brush her teeth. Charlotte gets ready for her day.
Charlotte runs down the stairs trying to button up the last of the buttons on her dress shirt. She rushes into the kitchen and pours herself a cup of much needed coffee. She takes a look at the clock on the microwave, “Crap I’m late!” Charlotte puts the lid on her travel mug, grabs her coat, purse and keys and runs out the door.
Charlotte is speed walking her way to the bus stop. “Man I really need to work out more” Charlotte thinks as her wobbling thighs and buttocks burn. Behind her she can hear the rapidly approaching familiar chugging and whirring sounds of the Number 9 bus. “Aw man not again” Charlotte breaks into her signature flailing chicken run of terror. Loud grinding and whirring sounds hunt, overtake and leave Charlotte in the dust or more literally in the drink; a cold splash of muddy puddle water leaves her drenched. “Are you effing kidding me!” Charlotte screams as she reaches the bus stop out of breath and clearly irritated. The Number 9 bus is still loading its passengers. Charlotte dripping wet and pissed off steps onto the bus and glares at the bus driver. “Oops, sorry about that sweetie” The bus driver says with a bit of a chuckle. Charlotte beyond irritated, “First off, I ain’t your freakin sweetie, second off George, you’re a dick, get over yourself, you’re a effing bus driver not a brain surgeon!” “Excuse me I am NOT a bus driver I am a Transport Technician” Charlotte wipes her face with her soggy sleeve, puts her fare in the fare box and leans into George and says, “Oh that is right I forgot a Transportation Technician, translated means, I have a small dick so I must overcompensate by driving the biggest piece of crap machinery known to man.” Charlotte drops the last of the coins in the fare box and takes her ticket. George shakes his head and mutters “Bitch” Charlotte mutters “Dick” and walks back to her seat. Charlotte plops down next to an unsuspecting middle aged male passenger quietly reading his newspaper. As Charlotte sits almost in defeat the man looks up from his paper, Charlotte is still dripping wet and still panting from running. The man looks at Charlotte in puzzlement. Charlotte casually looks over at the man, wipes water dripping down her face with her sleeve and gives the man a cordial half smile and says “Hey, whatcha reading, anything worthwhile in there?” The man still puzzled at her very wet and distressed attire, stares at Charlotte and blinks a couple of times before replying, “Oh you know, same old, same old, death, destruction, falling economy, who is Lindsay Lohan screwing.” Charlotte replies, “Cool” They both awkwardly turn way from each other.
The bus ride is bumpy and filled with smells that should only be manufactured during wartime in a top secret facility and not coming from within the human body. Finally, Charlotte sees her stop and rings the bell. She gets up and begins to walk to the front of the bus, suddenly out of nowhere George slams on the brakes and Charlotte goes flying and lands in the sturdy lap of an attractive, dark haired, dark eyed well-dressed man. The man is texting; Charlotte is now sitting on said phone. “You gotta watch that first step she is a doozy” Charlotte sheepishly says with an awkward laugh. The man just blankly stares at her. Just then, the phone wedged underneath Charlotte’s butt and the man’s lap rings. Charlotte casually reaches underneath her posterior and yanks out the damp cell phone and hands it to the man, “Gives new meaning to butt dialing huh” Charlotte says with a nervous laugh. The man gives Charlotte an awkward smile. “Can you get off of me now, I have to take this” Charlotte grabs the pole and rolls herself off of the man, pulls down her skirt and staggers her way to the front of the bus. George is laughing. Charlotte glares and mutters “Dick” George continues to laugh, “Watch that first step now, it can be a doozy” and continues to laugh. Charlotte mocks George with a fake laugh and exits the bus. She looks down at her watch, “Shit I am so late!” Charlotte proceeds into her flailing chicken run.
The blaring and piercing ring of the alarm clock awakens Charlotte from her much needed slumber. Charlotte looks at the clock and decides to throw it across the room. Charlotte rolls over onto her stomach and mutters into her deflated pillow, “Dear God, it is too fucking early!” Monday’s always come too fucking early.
Thank you all once again for coming along on this blog writing journey with me and for taking the time to read my ramblings each week – That does not go unnoticed or unappreciated. But, before we go let me ask you this – Have you just felt like you were just a ‘hot mess’ in your life? How did you deal with it – What are you own tips and tricks to help us fellow hot messes out?
I seriously CAN NOT wait for your answers!
Until next time,
I send you Love & Light Always,