Crazy is the Name of My Game

( 5 ) I'm no hero.

Erica Santos

7:37:08 am, Friday

Ugh, less than half an hour before classes starts. I was still half-asleep, my vision distorted, reluctantly dragging myself off Mr. Bed. He was also reluctant to let me go. Oh, dearie. I shall miss you too.

Yawning, I slumped on the untidy floor.

Five more minutes...

It only seemed like a second had passed, but when I glanced at the clock, it showed, 7:49:11am.

Everything became a whirl of action.

I snatched my clothes from the chest drawer, not checking whether they matched, and ran like a crazed towards the bathroom. It was like I've grown two extra pairs of hands as I moved.

Hurry, hurry, gurry, curry, I chanted mindlessly.

I drank milk directly from the carton while I dished up my simple sunny side-up breakfast. I didn’t even bother to put it on a plate; I ate it straight from the pan, scalding my tongue in the process.

Thanks to my beloved alarm clock, I woke up terribly late (and even later than late) so I was practically running inside my small apartment, a hurricane leaving order instead of destruction.

My brain cells are going to die from insomnia!

Due to my mysterious savior last night, I wasn’t able to get a good night’s sleep. Like any normal girl from my age group, the dashing knight-in-shining-armor thingy got into my head, stuck there like leeches, sucking my rationality away. As if lack of sleep wasn't enough for that.

Good thing that today was Friday. Tomorrow, I will sleep for eighteen hours. I mentally noted that I will Google him later.

W-Wait.

Friday? I rechecked my calendar. The date was encircled. I choked. Today is Friday?!

Holy muffin!

I scrambled out of the kitchen, fully alert and anxious, tripping myself with my own feet... again.

“Crap,” I muttered as I hit the floor the wrong way. Ignoring the tenderness of my ankle, I dashed back to my room. Brows pulling together, I opened my laptop and pulled out the papers neatly stacked in my study table. I typed furiously, desperately, trying to race against time.

My brain cells are on zombie-mode now.

Sheesh! How could I forget this? The deadline for my newspaper article was in two hours and I haven’t even started!

Chief is going to bite my head off if I didn’t make it. And if I missed this, I would be penniless for another week. I couldn’t stretch my budget as it is. Ugh! Cookies were way out of my league now. I’m so tired of eating instant noodles and bread. Maybe I should try planting my own garden so that I could have fresh organic food on my dining table.

But there’s one tinnie tiny problem with that.

Would they grow indoors?

* * *

Yay!

I broke into a touchdown dance in front of the mirror, hollering in delight. My jaw hurt, my chest hurt, but I couldn't stop laughing. I tossed the hundreds of papers into the air, letting it shower into a white mess.

I made it! I’m a genius! I’m a gorgeous genius!

I beat the deadline in world record time. I sent the e-mail containing the article two full minutes early and received the confirmation a minute later. Hah! I’m an unstoppable force of nature! Ha ha ha!