A Day In The Life
By Alexis Tully


Oh, Manuel… There’s so much to do at my house… Maybe you could show me how to draw so I’m not so terrib- YOU CAN’T, ALWAYS GET, WHAT YOU WAH-AHNT. The shock of sudden noise digs me out of my dream hole but I am yet to see the world. My eyes fly open and I am immersed into what is always a dull blur of apple green snowflake shapes of light and the melodic voice of someone sounding far from my current state of consciousness. I squint to reveal the cryptic message alighting my alarm clock. When my brain reregisters that I set my clock back even farther so I just might have time to do more in the morning, I glance at what I believe to be the window, softly lit by aged street lights. I make a small, unpleasant noise, bunching-up my face, and gathering escaping blanket warmth to roll over and attempt ignoring the call of, not a rooster, but The Eagle. Radio game too strong. Occasionally I am able to drift back to sleep, but in whatsuch typical day, I cannot.
I would not say I am a morning person, rather, I am not a waking-up sort of person. I blindly search for my phone. When I find it I press the magic button and the room is semi-illuminated. Getting out of bed in a way one might call ‘I’d-flop-onto-the-floor-if-it-was-not-a-hard-surface’, and walking as though my feet were connected to my knees by strings (it surely felt that way). Flipping the switch almost switches my vision with my cat’s vision as well. Somehow a dull light in a Cheeto-orange room fazes her but welcomes me. I outstretch an arm to pet her as she gets up, blinking and stretching her four fuzzy, white legs.
“Hey Miss Bologna,” I murmur with a warm smile.
“Maoooowr…” she yawns and squeaks in reply.
Taking a trip to the bathroom and amazed by my current hairdo, I come back to find my cat, TK, eyes now open wider than something from a horror movie.
“You look scary now, Mugs!” I say with a nervous chuckle. I climb back onto the bed to embrace her, resting my head on her warm, purring body.
“Sorry for school, cat.”
I recheck the Weatherbug app on my phone to make sure the temperature hasn’t decided to cancel its 6am-3pm schedule since last night. As a double take, I push the blinds aside slightly to press the back of my hand against the window. Picking up clothes hanging from an open drawer that I had chosen yesterday, (in case I did choose to sleep in), I slip each leg through the appropriate pants holes, and every other bit and piece through other appropriate bit and piece places, including sleeves and head holes. I exchange my old backpack water bottle and my night water bottle for a cold one in the fridge. My options are purple or black. Blue is for my little brother, and pink is just not my color. That’s all there is. Well black matches more things than purple does, and the purple doesn’t really match my current outfit anyways… I grab a black one and head to the counter to open my twice daily savior: a peculiar mechanism of white and blue that opens to reveal disgustingly edible treasure only useful in specific amounts for certain persons. So in other, non-exciting words, my medicine holder. Mornings have to be quick for the most part, so I take them like I’d eat M&M’s: by the handful. M&M’s don’t usually require water though. I don’t choke, and I feel lucky enough to have smaller pills for the morning. As I head down the hallway, the radio gets increasingly louder until I open the door to my bedroom, where it stays a consistent volume. I figured out that my radio, if set as an alarm, will stay on for exactly an hour until it shuts off. My extra time is now wasted on beauty and hygiene, rather than sleep. You’d think that over an hour, from 5:20am to 6:30am, would be enough time to do everything. I thought the same until I actually tested it. The result? There is never enough time.