Moonstruck

Chapter Three | "Hi."

I'm lucky enough not to have any vivid dreams that night, or at least not any that force me out of sleep. I actually wake up feeling rested, surprisingly, able to pull myself out of bed without dilly-dallying around or taking five more minutes to snooze.

Seven AM. I stretch, yawning. Alright, Monday. Time to get going.

In the corner of the room, my laundry basket still sits, perched on the cart I'd used to wheel it to the laundromat. I wince, then sigh. So much for getting that done. I'm sure half of my clothes are totally wrinkled, now. I'll have to pull out the ironing board once I get home from work.

I'd had the best intentions of finishing my chores- my laundry especially- after my long nap yesterday. Instead, I'd awoken still feeling drained. I'd nearly leapt out of bed in a rush to put away my groceries- including my totally-melted ice cream, which I'd completely forgotten I'd picked up; a testament to how absolute absent-minded I'd been all day. After that bit of stress, I decided I'd forget about the laundry and just spend the rest of the day relaxing.

Renee had been awake by the time I dragged myself out of bed, so the two of us ordered takeout, spending the evening watching cheesy horror movies in our living room. We talked about our night out together, though it became clear quickly that Renee hadn't noticed me dancing with the mystery man. She'd been too caught up dealing with the jerk who wouldn't leave her alone. She'd only noticed me after I'd pulled away from him, having heard her cry out in anger.

Still, she was clearly thrilled that I'd come out at all, and apologetic that she'd cut the night off early. "We've got to do it again sometime," she'd said cheerfully, to which I responded by... well, by changing the subject entirely.

I yawn again, shaking my head to clear it.

Do not get caught up again, Monday Williams. I tell myself sternly. You push that man out of your mind right now. We're not having a repeat of yesterday.

I feel like an idiot for getting so caught up in my feelings the day before. It's really not like me- really, really, absolutely nothing like me. With another morning in-between me and the man from the club, it's far easier to brush the way he made me feel aside, and the way I made myself feel, going over and over and over the reason why I couldn't get him out of my mind, driving myself so crazy I'd almost convinced myself I'd seen him on the street...

You're doing it again, I chide myself, kicking off the blankets so I can swing my legs out of bed. I stretch, cracking my back.

It's a new morning. Time to stop overthinking and move on.

Life's not going to wait for you, Monday.

I walk slowly to the kitchen, trying to keep from letting the floorboards creak beneath my feet- as usual, Renee is still fast asleep- and then start my usual routine of brewing tea. But this time, I only drink a small cup before pouring the rest into my to-go mug. I'm not running late by any stretch of the imagination, but it's a little bit of a walk to work. I don't want to have to rush myself.

In the bathroom, I brush and fishtail-braid my hair, pinning back the flyaway pieces with a few bobby pins. Staring at myself there in the mirror... I don't know why, but I find myself caught, just for a moment.

Same brown eyes. Same brown hair. Same plain face, same smatters of goofy freckles.

I open my mouth in a forced grin.

Same smile.

So why do I feel so weird?

I push that thought all the way to the back of my mind. I am not doing this today. I am moving on, moving forward, not focusing on my silly insecurities, the man in the club, whatever feelings he might have dragged out of me. I'm only feeling off, still, because I'm letting myself linger on thoughts of him.