Epilogue Pt. I

* Let it be known for the record, the date today is Saturday, October 29th, 2011.  

Just before I fell asleep [for a second time] around midnight, on Friday, October 28th, 2011, I closed my eyes and wandered around in a happy, anxious state of mind. Why, you may ask, was I happy/anxious? Honestly? I was looking forward to work in a few hours because it was payday, and I’d convinced myself that receiving a paycheck would somehow, someway, make the day at work worthwhile. It was under that impression, under that notion, that my brain allowed itself to relax and I stayed asleep until….

I was able to stay there until…

I opened my eyes six hours later at precisely 6 o’clock in the morning. Sometimes I can do that via my internal clock but not Friday morning. NOOOO, I owe kudos for Friday’s wake-up call to two of the most annoying alarms, capable of being programmed on my iPhone to go off just seconds apart from one another. The alarm tones absolutely, positively DID NOT harmonize, but instead, the noise they simultaneously made sounded like two roosters getting choked to death at the hands of a dead-tired, unforgiving man. My hand closest to the edge of the bed felt around the night stand until my fingers located my phone. I touched the phone screen and in an instant, bird sodomy, or at least the sound of it being committed in my house, became non-existent. 


6:30am came fast, I thought to myself while I brushed my teeth, sans pre-brush whitening mouthwash. No time for vanity, I was in a hurry, and I fished inside the dryer for all of the pieces of my work uniform. 

Black pants…Check. Black polo…Check. Black socks….Black socks….

ONE black sock…The other black sock! Black underwear…No….Hmmm…

Hot pink underwear? They’ll do!  

I threw on my work uniform, grabbed my purse and black hoodie, then I headed outside. It was cold and dark, and I sat in the car for a minute while I stared into the rearview mirror. It was kinda creepy outside, quiet, and I wondered if I was truly as alone as I believed myself to be. 


I was. 


With a struggled key turn, the car’s engine turned on and I rolled down all the windows and opened the sunroof so I could…


I could. 
I did. 


I completely disregarded the ban on smoking in the car because I rolled down any and all windows. [This is how I bend the rules for me. I can’t guarantee that my equation for zeroing out a “No you may not/Yes I may”, situation will work for anyone else, so if you wanna try it, try it at your own risk.]


I lit a cigarette, (which I found hiding out in my purse), and I inhaled all of the relief it had to offer. Fast forward through the drive to work, past the fancy white lights that illuminate the skyscrapers at dawn, make an effort NOT to run over the obviously organic, fat-free, gluten-free, lactose intolerant, wannabe yuppie runner who runs in place at all of the red lights (and try not to waste too much time wondering why on earth He thinks running in a business district at 7:00am is, “chic”, because it’s not, really), skip over the boring, dirty parking garage that‘s never full, (at least it’s never full in the mornings.)


Ten minutes late. 


That’s right, not ten minutes later, ten minutes LATE. Sometimes fifteen, fifteen minutes LATE and I walk into a busy-as-fuck coffee shop located inside of a full-service, hoity-toity metropolitan hotel in downtown DFW. Some people call it their favorite break spot, their life-saver, their sanctuary, a secret meeting spot...


As for me, it’s fun sometimes. It’s been my home-away-from-home a few weeks out of the year. But most of the time I refer to that place, that coffee shop, as work. That’s the place where I work, is what I say to people when they ask me about it. 


So there it is, that’s how I began my Friday. But allow me to be honest for a moment; That’s how every single one of my work days start, (give or take a few hours if I’m opening or coming in for a mid-shift).






The End. 



            [BLACKOUT]










Nope, not on that day. Not on Friday, October 28th, 2011.  I didn’t know it until now but that day proved to be one for my personal history books. It was a day I’m certain I won’t forget anytime soon. Fortunate for me, the climax didn’t occur at 7:00am. Because if it happened then I would’ve missed it all together. 


There’s a part of me that has to wonder whether or not it’s even possible, if we’re actually capable of “missing out”, on anything? If not, then is it possible that we make OUR OWN destinies by the choices we make for OURselves, (i.e., showing up to work at least ten minutes late). 

Being on time or being late on Friday morning would not have affected my outcome, I don’t believe.

So do we guide our fates or are we guided by our destines? Both? Neither? Perhaps it’s all just perception, a heavy helping of living proof and… 


Faith. 
Or Want. 
A Need.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]