School’s Out for Summer

Filed under Memoirs of a Paralegal

“Go Get It. Go Get it. Go get it. Go get your blessings.  It’s your tiiiiime!”  My dreary eyes squint open to look at the mirror fixed on the  headboard of the bed of the bedroom suite that I so graciously inherited from my older sister, Sasha, who recently moved in with her well-to-do rich, 6’5″ boyfriend.  When she first agreed to move in, her now-deemed fiance, DeMarcus Bradley, promised to help her “leave the old world behind.” I suppose it all began with leaving behind her bedroom suite.  I hear my alarm glaring in the background as I try to imagine I am already up and at ’em starting my day.  I chose Mary Mary as my alarm song because when i had my purple Samsung Galaxy S4 set to “briefing,” the news simply put me to sleep.  Plus, Carol (the mechanical humanoid phone announcer) never seemed to pronounce all the word correctly or add the period in the correct places.  I needed something inspirational, yet not so Heaven or Hell.  Mary Mary was my choice.  I figured–once I got up, I could go get “it” because “it” is my time.  Then, I could fill in the blank and make “it” whatever I wanted it to be.  I could go get “breakfast” because it’s my “breakfast time.” Being that I could rationally and effectively fit this song as applicable to whatever I had going on in my life, I thought it suitable to be my alarm song of choice.

Typically, my alarm goes off, for the first of 10 times, promptly at 5:42 a.m.  I am so aggressively anal about being on time that I purposefully set my alarm for 5:42 a.m. because I know I need to be out of bed before 5:50 a.m. if I am to get up, get dressed, get my son up, fix breakfast for two, lunch for two and snack for one.  All of this before the school bus bellows its horn down our streets serenading the neighborhood dogs only so they can join in like off-key BackStreet Boys at 7:10 a.m. sharp.  Not such a big deal now with school out, but for the sake of not having to reset my body, I never changed the alarm.  The first alarm lets me know it is time for me to open my eyes and the next “Go get it” is at 5:47 so I will be up and in the bathroom by 5:50 a.m.

So, I’m up. Yes!  NO!  I look at my phone and it’s 6:12.  The alarm is still mocking me “it’s your tiiiiimmmee!”  Time!  It’s past time!  Now, I’m on someone else time. Flinging comforter back, I toss my legs out the bed and nearly slip and fall on the pink and black, thong flip flops purchased from the neighborhood Wal-Mart for $6.00 and jet to the bathroom.  Thank God I don’t need a housecoat.  I mean–no one lives in the downstairs made-for-daughters apartment but me.  My son, 10 year old Daren Dudley James (affectionately called Dae Dae), even chose to stay upstairs with my folks because, in the interest of economy, I have no heat in the Winter and no air in the Summer.  My dad, Milton Warren James, really feels that since science has deemed that heat rises and darkness falls, air is not needed in the Summer because all the heat will be upstairs and in the Winter, because it gets darker more quickly, it will preserve the heat that the day has brought along.  My phone is with me because I have to account for every minute.  I only allow myself a 15 minute shower so–3 Go get its.  I figure that’s all I need considering I have no man, no life and–ever since Dae-Dae went looking for extra batteries and (although he did find batteries) found the not-so-hidden batteries stashed in the silk pink bag in the top drawer next to my bed with my extra large neck massager–I have an extremely stiff neck.  So, nothing severe happens over night requiring anything more than 15 minutes to get “it” done.  I get out of my shower and look at the phone–6:30 a.m.  HOLY CRAP!!  What the hell am I doing, today!  I know I lost number 10 of my 10 “get-its'” but I KNEW my rhythm just wouldn’t let me down today–NOT TODAY!!

I look in my closet and slip on my green, color-block Calvin Klein, asymetrical maxi dress.  It’s the first I can get to, but it works.  It goes nicely with heels or flats.  Long.  Plus, it defines my shape (showing my recent 25 lbs of weight loss) and it’s butt-dress–,my butt looks perky and does what it do in this dress.  I shake out my hair with my fingers, throw my sunglasses on my head as the accessories of the day and race upstairs and out the door.  No time for coffee.  I’ll have to pick a smoothie up at the nearest QuikTrip and pray my Office Manager is feeling lunch-giving today.

So glad school is out for summer.

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