Morning Routine

My day starts off at home as wake to the same repetitive song the radio station plays over and over. So I turn to my side where the alarm clock is positioned and press the sleep button. The whole process repeats when it goes off the next few times until six forty rolls around. Then I roll out of bed and stumble to the bathroom where brush my teeth and my hair staring into to the mystical mirror to adjust my hair as needed. Then I go into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee and make myself a breakfast of an egg and a slice of bread.

Then I sit down at the kitchen table to watch the same lies, tragedy, and politics that they air every day at six fifty in the morning. Sometimes they talk about the weather or the stocks but most of the time they run commercials. Then when I’m done with breakfast get up and put my dishes away in the dishwasher. After that walk to my room and put my wallet with my drivers license in my back pocket. Also put my keys with all of the cumbersome ad-dons into my front pocket.

My other front pocket gets my lifeline, my baby, four hundred radar earned dollars worth of plastic and metal, my cell phone. Then walk to the door but before walk out I do one last swivel of my head asking myself “Is there anything else that I need? Then it hits me “My backpack! ” I shout in my head as lurch back to my desk and grab it. As walk out the door I slap the light-switch off and return to the kitchen to make my lunch. Always start with the sandwich, first get the bread out, then make my move for the turkey and the cheese. Et the stuff down on the counter top ND go back to the fridge for the mayonnaise, mustard, and lettuce. I chop the lettuce into fine strips then I put the mayo on the bread. Next I add mustard followed by turkey and cheese with another round of lettuce. Then I get a little baggy for my sandwich and a paper one for the rest of my lunch. Granola bars, chips, a banana, and whatever good stuff is left over usually gets tossed in the bag for my consumption at school. After putting it in my backpack I start heading for the door but not before grab my sweater.

Once outside I wander over to my car to drop off my backpack as well as warm tip while I go to talk to the bus children. Then I walk over to the kids waiting for the bus and we talk about school or sometimes we don’t even talk at all. Then the sound of the bus barreling down the road is audible, signaling me to go to my car so I can beat the bus out of the neighborhood or face the consequences of following it all the way to school. Down the shifter goes into drive as I hit the gas and pull out of my driveway. Eve the same way and at the same time so much that cars start getting familiar from day to day. For example I see the same brown Toyota, belonging to one of my friends from middle school, passing the other direction going to Santa Rosa High School. Another one of my friends that attends Anally high school, drives the opposite way that do down Willowier road, will drive past me and honk. As get to school see the mess of parents dropping their kids off and blocking half the road in front of the school.

After I barely make it passed that tit my life turn into the teachers’ parking-lot, where dodge more parents dumping kids in the middle of the drive way, eventually parking in the same spot I park everyday. I sit in my car blasting the radio and warming up in the heater’s dry hot air. When the clock gets to seven twenty I force myself to get out of the warmth to walk past my English teacher’s car to the hallway by the math building. There I freeze with my nerd group friends and usually stand thinking “I wish my cool friends were here. As I listen to the nerds talk about their latest escapade on DATA 2, their favorite video game, and act like I understand what their talking about. Normally when the bell rings make my journey to class either Baking and pastries or Office aid. In office aid I normally take out the call slips disrupting the classes as much as possible with funny faces. Then I return to the office for another hour Of stating at the ceiling Or my phone. On Monday schedule I go to baking and sit on some cruddy bleachers taking notes until he is done lecturing and we can start cooking food. That is all that my morning consists of.