MBTI high school

Chapter

Chapter 36: The Morning Battlefield

In a house where organization is a distant dream and chaos reigns supreme, ESFJ woke up with a clear mission: survive another morning.

The clock read 6:30 AM, and already, her unpaid mother-hen instincts told her that something terrible was brewing.

She bolted out of bed, still in her pajamas, and rushed to the kitchen. She wished she were wrong.

But no.

Her father, a full-grown man yet a full-time child, stood in front of the fridge, wearing a questionable bathrobe, holding a charred piece of toast in one hand and a bottle of milk in the other—drinking straight from it, of course.

— "Dad!" ESFJ groaned. "Couldn’t you have waited for me to get up before attempting… this?"

He shrugged, chewing noisily.

— "I’m experimenting," he said, as if this were a scientific project and not a crime against the kitchen.

ESFJ glanced at the microwave, where suspicious smoke suggested the experiment had not been a success. She took a deep breath. Not now. Too early for a stroke.

Mission 1: Extract Mira from her Existential Crisis

6:40 AM. Destination: Mira’s room. As expected, the door was already slightly open, and inside, the young girl, wrapped in her blanket, was living through her 437th internal meltdown.

— "I’m late?! This is a disaster! I’m going to fail! And if I fail, I’ll ruin my studies! And if I ruin my studies, I’ll end up under a bridge!"

— "MIRA," ESFJ cut in. "You’re panicking over a hypothetical future where you live in a cardboard box. Get up."

— "But what if—"

— "I said. Get up."

Mira hesitated, sniffled, then got up. A victory. A small one, but a victory nonetheless.

Mission 2: Evict Jessica from the Bathroom

6:45 AM. ESFJ knocked on the bathroom door.

— "Jessica, get out."

— "Wait, I’m doing my contouring."

— "Jessica, you are ALREADY late."

— "Beauty has no clock."

— "Yes, and it’s striking the hour of YOUR DEATH if you don’t come out now."

Silence. Then, the door cracked open, revealing a half-made-up Jessica, who shot her sister a death glare before grabbing her makeup bag and storming off with the grace of a scorned diva.

— "Don’t complain if my nose doesn’t shine enough today."

— "I’ll survive."

Mission 3: Retrieve ISFP from Her Gothic Bubble

6:50 AM. Next stop: her twin sister ISFP’s room.

The scene was always the same: a room shrouded in darkness, a few lit candles, an incense stick diffusing a mysterious scent, and ISFP sitting on the windowsill in a dramatic pose, black tea in hand.

— "Get up."

— "Have you ever wondered why we wake up every morning only to repeat this endless cycle?"

— "Not today, ISFP."

— "Life is an illusion, a theater where we play senseless roles."

— "Then get up and play your role as a student going to school."

ISFP sighed, as if mere existence were a punishment, but she still got up. Another mission accomplished.

Mission 4: Breakfast (or an Attempt Not to Lose Faith in Humanity)

7:00 AM. Everyone was finally gathered around the table.

Mira was triple-checking her bag, stressing about forgetting something. Jessica was eating a croissant with surgical precision to avoid ruining her lipstick. ISFP was stirring her coffee thoughtfully, probably reciting a sad poem in her head.

And their father… was stealing pancakes.

— "Can’t you wait until we’re done?!" ESFJ exclaimed.

— "I fed you for years; I deserve compensation."

— "YOU BURNED YOUR EGGS THIS MORNING; YOU DESERVE NO COMPENSATION."

He shrugged.

— "It’s a matter of perspective."

ESFJ placed her hands on the table and took a deep breath.

— "Listen carefully. If everyone is in the car in five minutes, I solemnly swear I will not kill anyone today."

Silence.

Then, in a survival-driven frenzy, everyone rushed to get ready.

7:15 AM: The Nightmare Ends

Finally, the family was seated in the car. Mira was biting her nails, Jessica was checking her reflection on her phone, ISFP was staring out the window like the tragic heroine of an indie film, and their father…

— "You know, I’ve had worse mornings than this."

ESFJ shot him a murderous look.

— "The morning you tried to cook pancakes WITH AN IRON?"

Guilty silence.

— "Okay, that one was exceptionally bad."

ESFJ rolled her eyes and turned on the radio. Another morning barely survived.

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Hey there… or maybe good evening, my dear Twilight…
Anyway, good morning or good evening to you! How are you? It’s been a long time.
Feel free to comment!

XOXO

Noulanne