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American Fiction Funny

         Happiness the Hard Way

Suzanne Marsh

The first question that enters my mind is: ‘why did I get out of bed?’ I wish I had a better answer than four little dogs that want outside and their breakfast. I glance at my watch; I really do need to get moving here. I should have been up and dressed before now. Today, I have to speak to an editor who is interested in a story I have written. I am beyond nervous; I am making myself a total crazy person. I hate being late my first error of the day was not getting up when the alarm went off. My second was not getting to shower before a roommate who loves to hog the hot water. I can’t go on an interview smelling like a grub bunny. This day is not off to the best start, but it will get better as the day wears on or at least I hope it does.

I go out into the kitchen; breakfast the most important meal of the day or so they say. I make myself a cup of instant coffee, I need something to wake me up. I find a semi clean cereal bowl and spoon. Cheerios are wonderful especially when some accidentally spill on the floor. The dogs make a mad rush the next thing I know I am sitting on the floor wondering what happened. The magnificent four love cereal and I share my breakfast with them, just not on the floor. I find the broom and dustpan and clean up the mess the I spilled. The dogs can’t have that many pieces beside; I am not going to eat cereal that was on the floor.

I glanced at my watch, oh man my roommate was still in the shower. I began to bang loudly on the bathroom door:

“Will you hurry up; I have an interview with the editor in less than an hour. I have to been there.

early.”

The voice from within the bathroom led me to wish I did not have a roommate:

“I can’t possibly go any faster than I am. That editor won’t say anything if you are late.”

I was beginning to feel more than slightly exasperated:

“Look, you are simply renting the other room it doesn’t mean you can hog the shower.”

“Oh, really, well maybe I should move.”

“Oh, yes please do.”

I have never been one to consider consequences and I did not at this juncture either. I would worry about finding another room mate after today. I continued to bang on the door until she finally opened it. I pulled off my bathrobe and hopped into the shower. I hate cold showers, but she had used up the entire fifty gallons in the tank. This day had all the ear marks of the universe conspiring to make me crazy. At this point it was winning.

I quickly rounded up my four little troublemakers; I put them in their crates as I rapidly dressed. I had less than half an hour to make it across town to the editor's offices. City driving is not for the faint of heart. I was driving around sixty-five in a forty when I saw red and blue lights following me. I thought to myself: ‘he is going to give you ticket and the no doubt will be at least three hundred dollars. The policeman was a tall man that seemed to unfold himself from the car. He strode over to the driver’s side:

“Do you have any idea how fast you were going?”

“I am late for an appointment with my editor. I had a cold shower. Please don’t give me a

ticket!” I babbled on. The officer was trying to make sense of what I was saying:

“Lady, you were not just speeding you are going the wrong way on a one-way street.”

Talk about a double whammy, this was it. I tried to think before I opened my mouth, but I failed miserably:

“Officer, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I was late getting up, I had to feed the dogs.

I spilled cereal all over the kitchen floor. I had to sweep all that up while the dogs feasted on

my breakfast. Then I had to take a shower. My roommate was in the shower, she would

not hurry.” The officer was writing all the time I was babbling on:

“Surely, you can understand my plight. I need to get to the editor’s office and now you

are making me sit here.”

Th officer, I thought for sure was going to let me off. I gave him that sad puppy face I reserve for when I am in trouble. Five hundred dollars in fines, later I was on my way once again to the editor's office.

Murphy or the universe must have been conspiring against me in force.

I drove around the block half a dozen times attempting to find a parking spot. The last time I had parked in a parking ramp someone hit the back end of my car; I thought it would be safer on the street. Right? Wrong! I finally found a parking spot, however much to my consternation I did not notice the sign above it: “NO PARKING”. I hurriedly raced for the door and into the elevator. My high heel got caught in that little space between the door and the other side of the door. The damn door wouldn’t close. A very kind gentleman pulled my heel out. The door closed. Finally, I approached my goal, the editor's office. I entered, there sat this old biddy, seated at her desk watching me, like a hawk watches a squirrel.

“I am here to see Mr. Thomas Edwards; I have a ten o’clock appointment.”

“It is already ten thirty.”

“Yes, I know this, I had some difficulties this morning.”

“Mr. Edwards just got here himself. He mumbled something about some crazy lady with her.

heel stuck in the elevator door.”

My heart sank, even further when Mr. Edwards came out of his office. The look on his face said it all, I was the crazy lady. I did not get the book deal I wanted but Mr. Edwards did take me out for lunch. My day was not a complete loss, but Murphy and the universe certainly tried my patience.

March 09, 2023 20:08

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