Flash Fiction |
Still Happy I don’t have time for this, I thought, looking back at the kitchen sink, full of morning dishes, and yesterday’s too... I couldn’t clean them up then, I’d hit the snooze button on my alarm too many times and was lucky to get any breakfast at all. Frantically looking for my brown shoes, I couldn’t find them, well, I found one... but didn’t have time to change my clothes, so brown skirt and blue shoes it was. Fortunately, my blue blouse was there, people would just think I was bad at color coordination. They probably already did. Now to find the pages I was working on last night, the ones I failed to finish at work because I got back from lunch so late. Finally finding them in the bathroom, remembering I’d walked in to run a bath and then, when I realized I had no towels in there, had to run down to the laundry room for the rest of my laundry. I’d gotten caught up, listening to Mrs. Peck telling me about Susan Jones sneaking around with Terry Shultz behind her husband’s back. And, the pages were still not done either. I sat down in my living room, after pushing all the stuff off my only comfortable chair. It was a Friday. When I got home from work that day, I started a major cleaning, organizing project. I worked myself to the bone! By Sunday night, I was organized to the hilt. It lasted almost three days. That Wednesday night I was tired. All the little things you’re supposed to do “automatically” when your organized, suddenly seemed like a lot of work. Suddenly I seemed to be much better at not being organized, and happier too! That was twenty-six years ago. Still a slob, still happy. |