Rolling Out Of Bed

Pure horror freezes the blood in her very veins when she sees the time as her phone screen lights up. 

8:13 AM

No, this wasn't happening. Nope. Not to her, not today. In a flurry of blankets, sheets, and pillows she attempts to get out of the warm bed she'd been in as fast as possible. There wasn't a second to waste if she has any hope of getting to her job in a reasonable amount of time. If she still had the job anymore at all, since she is already thirteen minutes late. Why her useless phone didn't wake her as it did on any other day was a mystery. One she didn't have the luxury of time to investigate. 

As she runs into the bathroom, she fumbles for the light and bangs her knee, harshly, on the porcelain edge of the toilet. 

Hissing and holding the sore appendage while it throbs, she turns the light on single-handedly to find only one of her bulbs is functioning and rolls her eyes. The kind of morning this would be suddenly all too clear. 

Slightly limping, she gets through her shower, brushing her teeth and hair, and getting into something decent enough to wear to work. Clean and more awake, her spirits perhaps begin to lighten a shade or two. As she is pulling on her shoes, she arrives at the place on her kitchen table usually home to her keys and wallet. The corner distinctly lacks either of these items and the growl she gives in response comes deeply from her throat. 

Knowing she has very little to lose, she begins tearing into her living room. There was simply not enough time to care what her future self would have to say about the mess that would have to be dealt with. So cushions, pillows, and anything else in her way goes flying. The keys and wallets needed to be in her pocket now, or a half hour ago truthfully.

The traitorous things are found only when she gets on her hands and knees (which her wounded joint protests against) and looks under the chair by the table. Finding them neatly fallen to the floor right where she would have placed them yesterday. With blue eyes squinting lividly, she reaches out and snatches them.

There was not even time enough to be angry any further, so she shoves them and her phone into her purse and speeds out the door to her car. With a heavy sigh, she notes a breeze and clouds brewing and obscuring the sky. Only a day like this could quite literally rain on her. 

Speeding out of her driveway and down her city street at a frankly less-than-safe speed, until she begins seeing more cars and reminds herself of basic driver's safety. Slowly presses the brakes ever so slightly to fall just under the limit. Though safer, her stomach still twists, and the beginning of an ache forms at the very top of her head. 

A ding comes from her phone and for a second, she is relieved. The message likely was from her boss, probably wondering where she is- a good sign that she wasn't fired quite yet. Thinking it might be a good way to offer peace, she considers asking for her phone to call her boss through her car when she sees it. 

The car in front of her, after she had only just got on the main road, stops. In front of that car is a line stretching forward what she imagines is forever. All stopped in complete gridlock. 

No. This wasn't happening. Not with the day she's already had, and especially not just as her boss was calling her. 

Despite the ache already in her head, she bangs it on her steering wheel and groans loudly at the otherwise empty car. The idea that this could not possibly get any worse crosses her mind but she lets it perish. There is a distinct sense the universe could take such a sentiment and deem it a challenge today. 

Ahead, the cars move up a foot, and after she follows suit, the woman grabs her phone and dials her boss's number. Letting is go through the car speaker while she watches the turtle-like traffic in front of her. Tears threaten to pour from her eye and only the fact someone is about to listen to her stops them.

"Darla?" The voice of her boss voice answers. 

She tries to weed the heaviness out of her voice by clearing her throat. "Hey! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to be late...accidentally slept through my alarm, had a few minor disasters trying to get out the door, and got stuck in traffic"

A warm chuckle rumbles in the other woman's throat, even through the phone. "Sounds like you're morning has been delightful then. Just bad luck, it'll pass." Rolling her eyes at her friend's memories, she tries to get back on track. Katie had been a close friend for years, and the one to vouch for her a few weeks ago for her to be hired at this place at all. 

It turns Darla's gut how embarrassed this must make her, even if she is far too sweet to get angry with her. The cherry on top of her almost comically miserable morning. 

"Katie, really. I messed this up after you stuck your neck out for me here. I am sorry." 

"I stuck my neck out for you because I knew you were gonna mess up, honey. It was meant to help you, make sure a bad morning wouldn't be the end of the world while you get through college. Just get in as soon as possible, okay?"

"Yes, boss lady Sir!" She playfully mocks and the call ends with a true laugh still in her chest.

The conversation seems to change the air around her, and while sitting, she moves to turn on the radio. Darla begins singing along and tapping her fingers. It only takes a few songs before the traffic starts to move surely forward consistently before decongesting completely.

With an improved mood, Darla stops for a moment at a coffee place. Ordering some fancy chocolate drink with what is likely more sugar than coffee, her mood boosts much more and brings a smile to her face. When she finally pulls into her work, humming along to one of the songs she particularly liked, the storminess in the clouds from earlier seemed to have disappeared. Pulling out her phone to check things on it before going in, she pauses for a moment. 

The clock reads just after 10, making her only a few hours late.