In Over My Head

Morning Routines

My eyes open up slowly. I dont recall hearing my alarm ringing, so I know I just wake up from fear of sleeping in. The thing is, I don't remember if I did set my alarm last night, and I ended up falling asleep uncomfortably, since I was scared I would sleep through the morning. Sure, it may not make sense to you but thats the thing about me.

I don't make sense.

I grab my phone from under the pillow next to me and brace myself for the blinding brightness of the screen as I check the time. 6:25 am. Should I go back to sleep? Or should I just stay awake and try to do something useful? If I fall asleep I may have more energy throughout the day. If I stay awake I can maybe do some unfinished homework.

My thoughts are swimming with consequences and benefits, and by the time I'm done contemplating my choices, its 6:45 am and I can't go back to sleep anyways.

I tumble out of my bed and the first thing i see is my reflection staring back at me.

Wow. What a sight.

My curly, untamed hair is all over the place, stuck to my face and standing up about a foot above my head. My oversized beatles t-shirt has crumbs on it from God knows what I ate last night in one of my midnight binging episodes. Oh and one sweat pant leg is riding up my thigh.

But whats new? Shaking my head at the sight of my revolting appearance, I walk to the bathroom and begin my morning hygiene routine.

After I'm done, I drag myself back to my bedroom and turn on a little bit of music as I get dressed. Last year, I would have easily thrown on the same outfit almost every other girl in my school does. This year however, I decided to eliminate the basic bitch wardrobe. I actually wear REAL clothes now, unlike the rest of the girls in my grade who wear the same sweaters and skin-tight leggings in the winter, and the short shorts that may as well be thongs and crop tops that may as well be bras in the summer. And what really boggles my mind is how they STILL manage to get all the guys.

Whatever happened to boys saying they like a girl who's "different"?

'I have no clothes.'

I roll my eyes. Of course Sally doesn't have clothes. Sally is one of my closest friends, and we share the same interests of reading, writing, observing and complaining. I'd like to think I helped her become the person she is today, since we can both agree she was different last year. She was sort of a follower, letting others make decisions for her. This year, however, shes improved and has taken my advice on being more "original" and not giving a damn about what others think. She seems more alive now. Prettier even. I text her back agreeing, because I too cant seem to find anything to wear.

I finally resort to wearing dark washed skinny jeans (of course), a dark grey semi-cropped t-shirt, and a red oversized wool flannel.

I check the time. 7:43 am. Shit. the bus arrives in seven minutes. In a hurry , I rush up the stairs and throw on my socks. As I grab my school bag, I avoid the mirror, not wanting to see my makeup-less face and crazy hair.

Trying not to think about the hair, I half-heartedly say good morning to my little brother who watches me curiously from the stairs while eating his daily Nutella sandwich. I scream my goodbyes before rushing out the side garage door with my worn out converse in one hand.

I feel a soft blow of wind across my face as I struggle to kneel down and tie my shoes as fast as I can. The October weather outside is cool enough for layers, but not cool enough to feel the wind beneath my layers. Perfect.

As I walk to my bus stop, I gather in my surroundings. The sky looks a little dimmer today. I can hear birds in the distance, but there are none in sight. Trees on front lawns slowly drift from the wind.