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F.A.F — Flighty as Fuck

25 Feb

Guess who’s back. Me, precious! I was talking to my mother the other day on one of our evening walks and I said aloud how I have been feeling and thinking all this time in my adulthood. I have never become established because I am flighty as fuck.

I make a choice to do something and I abandon it before I begin. I want to go to school, I want to major in English – No – Neuroscience – No – Computer Science – No – English – Wait, maybe I can photograph things and people….

What the ever-loving fuck??

I’m pure and simple burning rubber without getting anywhere and I wish it would stop. I can’t keep up with me anymore and I don’t want to.

Sunday Morning

18 Dec

I dislike feeling groggy. Especially in the mornings. I wake up half-dead and stumbling my way into the kitchen. I feel hot as I have recently discovered it is better to sleep with my long hair down instead of up. Not as frizzy or wispy.

I make it to the coffee machine and begin the somewhat tedious process of emptying the previous day’s coffee grounds and filling the container with eight cups of water. Yes, eight cups for one person. With a flick of a button, the machine begins to percolate. I go back to my comfy bed and open my laptop. I see my Facebook news feed, what’s trending, and catch up on some notifications. Back in the kitchen, four cups brewed, I pour my first cup of deliciously hot coffee. Back in my bedroom, I open up the “add new post” page of my WordPress blog. Something I always do, and yet never complete. I always want to write, but the words usually always fail me. No ideas, nothing to say, and so I stare at the blankness of the text box.

It’s been an hour since I woke and the next phase is to begin. I grab my towel and head to the bathroom to shower. I hang my towel on the bar, place my pajamas on the bathroom counter and brush my hair. I always think this will leave less clumps of my hair in the shower drain, nevertheless my loose hair fills the drain each time. I shampoo, rinse, condition, wash my face and body, rinse and turn off the shower. I squeeze out my hair and step out of the steam — bringing it with me. I dry off, wrap myself up, and head to my room to dress.

All dressed, two cups of coffee in, I am ready to do my makeup and hair. Sometimes I throw my hair in a sloppy bun, sometimes I leave it down and let it air dry, and rarely I blow it out.

Makeup is simple:

  • Moisturizer
  • Foundation
  • Eyebrows
  • Eye shadow
  • Eyeliner
  • Blush
  • Mascara

But sometimes I am even too lazy to do all that. Then it’s just:

  • Moisturizer
  • Eyebrows
  • Mascara

By this time the second hour has passed and I am on to phase three.

Pack up and ship out. I always need extra time to go to Walgreens for my water and Monster energy drinks. I get to work with 20-30 minutes to spare and I breathe. If I start any later than early, it throws off my whole day.

We all have our rituals.


Prompted by the book The Five Minute Writer by Margret Geraghty