Ramen

Morning

Copyright Laura Piper 2013

Beep beep. Beep beep.

I glanced over the top of my purple comforter and released a sigh.

"I knew a class at nine would be a bad decision," I mumbled. 

 My hand lingered over the snooze button. For a moment, I pondered whether or not I would actually have the will power to get up in five minutes. Before I had time to make up my mind, my roommate, Sarah, hurled her fuzzy pink pillow across the room. It made direct contact with my face. No wonder she got a free ride on a softball scholarship.

"Ashley, turn off your frickin' alarm!" she screeched.

 My fist slammed down on my alarm's off switch. I snatched up her pillow and threw it back with a vengeance, but I was promptly reminded why I was never into sports. Dread spread through me like butter on hot toast. Unwillingly, I got out of bed to check the damage I'd done.

"Shoot!" I uttered. With a sigh, I added "Don't worry your majesty; I'll get you a new coffee maker."

I peered over at Sarah. If looks could kill, I'd be dead.

Begrudgingly, I stumbled to my pintsized chiffonier and opened the top doors. I sneered at the yellow sundress happily smiling at me. I was a first class sloth, and putting effort into how I dressed was the last thing on my mind. My friend Julie and I made a bet over a bowling game. I win she gets a perm. She wins I wear a dress the first day of second semester. I lost.

After wrestling with the stupid zipper in the back, I was reasonably presentable. Quietly, I opened the top drawer and pulled out a pair of black spandex shorts. People usually made fun of me for wearing spandex under dresses, but hey, I was from minnesooota dontchya know, and it was normal there.

Our floor only had one bathroom, and it was on the far end of the hall. I grabbed my hound's-tooth bathroom bag and crept through the door taking extra caution not to reawaken Sarah. She was pissed enough already.

Upon arrival to the restroom, I was delighted to find it empty. 

"Dang, I oughta get up early more of'en!" I raved.

My hot rollers were going to take a few minutes so I grabbed my pathetic excuse for a toothbrush and got to work.

"My shiny teeth and me," I chimed happily.

The rollers were hot enough to get the job done. I don't know what it was about them, but they always seemed to tame my unruly mane.

While my hair set, I reached into my bag and retrieved a little pink tube containing mascara. Two flicks of the wrist per eye was all it took. I chucked the tube back into the bag. Something was missing. My lips pursed.

Oh duh! My lips!

The little tube of shimmery gloss made a pop when I slid out the application wand. It floated across my lips adding just the right touch. With clumsy hands I removed the rollers and brushed out the gentle curls.

The corners of my mouth curled ever so slightly. I looked hot.

Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzt.

My phone buzzed angrily at me.

"Oh crap! I'm gonna be late!" I roared.

I flew down the hall to my dorm, tossed my bathroom bag on my bed, grabbed my backpack, and was off to my intro to philosophy class.