Just Another Day

It didn’t take long before I was back, staring blankly at my computer screen, wondering how to respond to my teacher’s request. A writing prompt with the words : Explain in full detail what you do if you were given the ability to time travel. What time would you go back to? Why? I was only a few weeks into this creative writing class that I had practically forced onto my schedule and I was already writing more than anything else. If it’s not a prompt, it’s an essay. If not that, then I have to write out the date on my paper, rather than simply writing the numbers. I’ve written so much that my hands cramp up nearly every day and this isn’t even half of what’s to come in the next few months. On top of all this, I have a full schedule almost every week, so it’s basically impossible to just sit down and focus on my assignments. So today, on this rare occasion: a free Saturday, I’ve made it my responsibility to catch up on everything I haven’t been able to do. Because of my schedule at work and the things I have to do at school, I’ve missed out on hair appointments, my room is beyond a mess, and I haven’t gotten around to the laundry at all. My prompt, which is due on Sunday at 12:00am is the furthest thing in my mind, despite it being urgent. I started off my day with the paws of my cat, pressing softly into my chest, causing me to jump out of my sleep. I sluggishly rolled out of my bed and filled up her bowl with food. I forced myself into the cold bathroom and soon after I found myself checking the time on my phone. Last night, apparently, a few of my friends sent me some videos, so I checked them out, laughed, and soon found myself scrolling through more and more videos. I ended up getting dressed and finding a nice style to do with my hair. I put my phone on the charger and continued to get ready for the day, even throwing in a load of clothes to wash. Wandering around the house, I made it to the kitchen and decided to make myself some breakfast to kill the time until I had to fold. In the pantry, there are endless boxes of cereal, a container of oatmeal, and some fruit and grain bars. Surprised at how much was available, I happily grabbed two boxes of my favorite cereal and made a large bowl. I normally didn’t wake up early enough for breakfast on the weekends, so I was quite proud of myself. I sat down at my dining room table and ate without a care in the world. Before long, I heard the sound of my clothes finishing off in the washing machine. I rinsed my bowl, put the clothes in the dryer, and filled the washing machine with another load. It’s about twelve in the afternoon now. I soon found myself sitting idly in the living room, watching a show to pass the time. I’m barely paying attention to the plot or the characters, except for the main character whose hairstyles and outfits kept my attention for longer than I wish to admit. I let the reruns play, just to see that character and listen to the theme song; over and over and over again until the dryer stops. When the clothes are finished, I take them to the sofa and place them down to fold them. Overwhelmed by the tall stack, I subconsciously realize that it’s been a few hours since the last time I’d eaten. I go to the pantry, pull out a snack and quickly look for something to keep myself busy. My hand immediately goes to my phone, now fully charged, and I check my notifications. I smile as I realize one of my friends from class texted me. We send a few messages back and forth, which eventually turn into a session of sending videos. I watch the videos she sends me, watch a few on my own, and send them to her. We keep going on like this for a little while. Between messages, I find myself back on the couch in the same place where I’d just binge watched a show. The time isn’t going fast or slow. It’s moving steadily. I occasionally glance up from my phone and remember the things I still have on my to-do list. 

“I have time,” I’d reassure myself.

The sun was still up and I’d already done a few things that I needed to do. Things I had normally never had the time to do. Letting my thumb constantly brush against my phone, watching and rewatching short videos wasn’t a sign that I was being lazy. I was “rewarding myself” for the things I had already done. I stared blankly at my phone, soon losing myself in a random series of videos from one specific creator whose name I don’t remember. Eventually, I stood and yawned, just as I had done earlier in the morning. I looked back down at my phone and looked at the time. It’s four in the evening now. My eyes widen in disbelief. 

“There’s no way it’s four,” I said to myself, surprised. 

I rushed to the window and looked at the sky. It had a softer blue tone, one that was darker and told you the day was coming to an end. I could hardly see the sun as it was now on its way to setting, standing somewhere behind the trees in the back of my house. I sighed as I stuck my head back inside and slumped on the couch. I had wasted a lot of time, but somehow regained confidence that I could still redeem myself. I jolted up and rushed for my speaker. Turning on my favorite playlist, I grabbed all the things I needed to start working on my room. I turned off the notifications on my phone and started the music. Once I walked in and started working, everything felt as if it had reset itself. I knelt down and began to separate my miniature hoard into smaller piles, separating the clothes and the papers and identifying what was trash. Along the way, I even found a nice outfit. With the music blasting through my room and the feeling of accomplishment taking over me, there was nothing that could stop me from finally finishing something. I reached over to the pile I’d made full of paper and found myself reading over some of my old drafts before I heard a car pull up outside. My parents are back home. I quickly turn off my music and rush to the front door to greet them. They’re both very tired from being at work all day, which is evident by the weary looks on their faces. My mother forces a smile and sits on the couch, I take her coat from her. My dad heads straight toward his room, his phone held up to his ear as he points and mouths: 

“Important phone call.” 

I shrug and sit down on the couch with my mom trying to make conversation about how her day went. Soon, she walks to her room as well and I’m left in the living room, scratching my head. My head. When I touch my head I can feel the knots and curls I had forgotten to take out earlier in the day. I rush to the bathroom to look in the mirror. My hair is a mess. I suddenly remember that I can still reschedule my hair appointment that I had missed earlier in the week. I rush to my room, grab my phone and call the number that was saved. 

“Hi, it’s me, Liana,” I say nervously as the hairdresser picks up. 

“Oh, Liana! Are you finally ready to reschedule?” She asks enthusiastically. I explain to her why I missed the past few days and I give her a date that I think will be good. “..Does that work for you?” I ask.

She pauses. 

I can hear her flipping through the pages of her datebook. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” She says hesitantly. 

“I’m booked next week.” 

“Are there any other days you wouldn’t mind coming?” She asks me. 

My mind goes at one hundred miles per hour, thinking about everything I have to do. Things I have to do that I haven’t already done, things I might need to do in the future, things I might want to do later. Yet, all I can come up with is: 

“Actually, do you think I can call you back?” 

“Um..sure?” She says to me, confused. 

Equally confused and now frustrated, I hang up the phone and place it on my bed. I still haven’t made up my bed, nor have I finished my room. It’s nine thirty now and I’ve hardly done anything. It’s dark outside and my parents are already home. The kitchen is still messy from this morning and a pile of clothes still sat in the washing machine, now forming a stench. I slump down on my bed in thought. 

“What have I even done today?” I ask myself. 

My to-do list shows no sign of accomplishment and I’m still where I was this morning. I’m still wondering what I’m going to do with the rest of my time. I only had a few hours until twelve, so I might as well finish my assignment before going to sleep. I sat, thinking about what I’d do if I had the ability to turn back time. I would definitely have made better decisions with just this one Saturday. Besides the things I had to do at home, I’ve had writers’ block since I was first assigned this prompt. I hopelessly walk back to my desk and open up my laptop.