Yesterday was Sunday.
I worked for eight hours, and we were busy. I got home and went into my room. There was a green bracelet put on my bed with elephants linked together. I put the bracelet on, and then I went swimming. After I went swimming I let my hair dry, grabbed one of the dogs, and drove to my Grandpa’s house. He was in the garage. We talked about getting my car registered in California and me getting my California license. I went inside the house. My Grandma asked me how I was doing. She sat in her lounging chair, watching Murder, She Wrote. She said there were only 12 seasons of the show. I watched an episode with her. It was about a killer at a circus. I went home after that.
Today is Monday.
I’m folding laundry. Me and my cousin are texting back and forth. I’m listening to music, albeit enjoying a quiet house. I’m still in pajamas. I need to exercise. Wash my hair. It smells like chlorine, from yesterday. I’m going to go to Starbuck’s frappuccino happy hour, later. Read my book by Khaled Hosseini. I will get on the elliptical and try out new eyeshadows and get a late start to the day and most likely ignore everyone and every thing. I will apply for a job as an optician. I will think of the past, and the present, but mostly I will think of the future.
Life is a vision of loveliness. That is the truth. Not that life over there, standing in the corner. This life, over here. Do you see it, at all?
I’m responsible. If I decide to take care of myself or not. It’s not just wisdom teeth and California licenses and drinking or not drinking a pint of ale after midnight.
It’s more frightening.