A day in the life of a twenty – something

By on May 18, 2013

By: Nicole Rashotte

You wake up. Eyes wide open, ready for the day. You smile and stretch and dash for your runners and jogging attire. You decide to push yourself a little harder today and tackle at least 45 minutes with just you, nature and some higher-than-usual speed. You walk out to the kitchen and start your day right. Nothing like a balanced breakfast of fiber and fruit. You feel a hand gently graze your back as you turn around to see your boyfriend. Ryan Gosling looks even better in real life, you think to yourself.ryan-gosling-shirtless-notebook

“If I didn’t have my abs, would you still be with me?” he asks.

Your mind flashes back to his Breaker High days and you barely even have to think about the answer.

“Of course not.”

You give him a look that lets him know he is fairly stupid for even asking. Thank goodness he is so pretty. You stare at the lines of his face and body and think to yourself, “Where the hell did Ryan Gosling come from?”

Your alarm goes off and you are truly awake. Eyes barely opening and in no shape or form to start the day, unfortunately, you are considerably more hung over than what you anticipated. You look over at your jogging attire and sneakers.

Is that actual dust collecting?” you think to yourself.

You laugh at the idea of running or jogging or even walking at this point.  Your hand finds your eyes as you rub them in order to properly see. You become very proud of yourself when you realize that you managed to take your makeup off the night before. Domestication at its finest.

You walk into the kitchen and decide to finish off the bag of chips that was last night’s dinner. No need to let perfectly good food go to waste. Some people would kill to even lick the crumbs from that bag. You are so considerate to the world around you. You assume that this is exactly how Angelina Jolie feels every time she adopts a child. Hand meets back. Pat. Pat.

You walk into your bathroom and stare at your slightly overwhelming amount of makeup. You are quite certain that you could pay off two credit cards if you sold this stuff, especially since you wear the same four items on a relatively consistent basis. You consider washing your hair, but that sexy bottle of dry shampoo is giving you the Ryan Gosling eye and you can’t resist. You spray your hair, cough from the fumes and gag from the lingering hang over. You question if you could ever live with some one – they probably couldn’t handle all this sexy. If JT brought sexy back, you invented it in the first place. This thought results in an impromptu booty shake. You smile at your excellent rhythm and then the light catches your eye in just the right way….that makes you run to your room and put some pants on.

You finally make it to work and have successfully not killed anyone on your way (this is a major accomplishment given that 90% of the people in this world are flat-out idiots). You arrive at your desk and stare at your phone, willing it to vibrate and show that you have a new text message. You wonder to yourself if you will ever stop the useless banter with the boy you don’t even know if you like some days. Does it drive you nuts that he has not returned your text or does it does it pain you to live in a world where a guy can receive a text as witty as yours and not feel compelled to respond. Maybe he never got the text. Sometimes you don’t get your texts. No wait, that is just what you tell the guys you don’t feel like talking to/hanging out with. Does this mean that he doesn’t want to talk to you? Maybe you aren’t as funny as you think. Maybe you should take up jogging and start washing your hair on a regular basis again.

Your phone vibrates.

You smile. He has come to his senses. You open your phone.

It’s your mom.

You curse the day your mother bought a cell phone. So many times she has crushed your dreams of your phone showing a text from a cute boy you shouldn’t be talking to.

You love her, so you read the message anyways.

“Honey, I hope you got some sleep. You were sobbing pretty hard on the phone last night”

bigstock_Broken_Valentine_Heart_Falls_T_68496213It all starts coming back to you. You didn’t wash your face last night, you cried your makeup off. You were hung over because the night before, you polished off a bottle of wine instead of cooking dinner. You then proceeded to watch six episodes of Whitney, so that you could yell at your computer about how much funnier you are than people on TV. Then you stared at the one picture you have of your “texting partner” for a creep-ishly long amount of time (you only have the one picture because you are an evolved human being who doesn’t feel the need to Facebook stalk the people you wish you were dating….and it has nothing to do with your recent realization that in the past, Facebook stalking has created the kind of behavior that would have Honey Bo Bo’s family calling you un-classy and grasping at sanity). This is when the waterworks began. This is when you called your mother, telling her that you are such a spinster that you wouldn’t even consider getting cats because not even they could love you.

You put the horrible events of the night before out of your head since you seem to have forgotten that you are in your place of employment and it might be a good idea to get some actual work done.

You decide to bare-down on all the work you have for the day.

In realty, this means you turn on Facebook, send a couple of personal e-mails and make yourself something to eat. Before you know it, you are home again, making love to another bottle of wine, while watching your third consecutive episode of Dateline. Nothing says, “I know how to unwind after a hard day at work” quite like watching someone get beaten to death with their own shoe.

As you blissfully enjoy hearing about the horrible death of complete strangers, your phone vibrates.

It’s him.

“Hey dummy. Sorry I didn’t get back to you last night. Totally fell asleep before 10!” he says.

You love that he calls you dummy. You love that he lies to you about falling asleep. You totally love that he did not comment on the wittiness of your text.

You stare at your phone and then text your mom.

You are so happy that she knows how to text. You are feeling far too lazy to cry tonight. Let’s not forget, you have jogging and showering to think about maybe doing in the morning.

2 Comments

  1. Pingback: First Post…. | Picked From A Hot Grove

  2. Pingback: I’m a Mess | Picked From A Hot Grove

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *