Year 23

The birth of a problem drinker

Buzz buzz buzz buzzzzz buzzz
I groaned as I felt my phone vibrating from under my tummy.
Squinting, I glanced at the screen.

'Grandma'

Predictable.
She was always one to call me first thing in the morning on every birthday.

"Hello" I answered groggily.
"Mora? How are you my granddaughter? Happy birthday."
"I'm good. Thanks, grams."
"What are you doing for your birthday? I have a present for you. You know your grandmother doesn't have a lot but I'll always try to make ends meet for you, my grand daughter."
"Yeah Grams. Thanks. I know. I don't know what mommy and daddy have decided to do yet."
"Okay granddaughter. Have a great day okay. Love you."
"Love you too."

I know what you're thinking.
I seemed unwilling to talk to her, right?
That's how the conversation always is though.
Don't get me wrong, I love my grandmother. She's awesome. She's sacrificed a lot for me and if it wasn't for her, I probably wouldn't have been able to make it through high school.
But I'm not very sociable with my family.
I love them to death but they're very critical of me.
You'll see.

Back to sleep now.

Knock, knock, knock
I opened my eyes again. Geez, even on my birthday I can't catch a break.
My dad walked into the room and kissed my cheek.
"Happy birthday."
"Mhmm. Thanks," I said as I noticed him placing money on my bed.
"Aren't you going to work?"
"Yeah. Later. Trying to sleep here."
"Alright, later."

He left just as I glanced at the clock on the wall in front of me.
07:45
I calculated that I had approximately 1 hour left to sleep before I'd be late for work.
I'm always late.

Buzz. Buzzzz. Buzz. Buzzzz

I groaned and looked at my phone for what felt like the millionth time. 

Geez, give a girl a break will ya!

Oh. It was the alarm. Sigh.

Maybe I should browse Facebook before I go take a shower. Let's see how many wishes I've gotten so far.

Or, on second thought, no. I've been late to work too many times for the month already, I thought as I hopped out of bed, in my pajamas- or a boxer and t-shirt to be specific.

As I walked down the stairs, tugging at my knotted hair, I prepared myself mentally to be greeted by my mother and siblings. 

I've never really been one to be affectionate to anyone, especially my family so this is when my anxiety usually kicks in the most.

"Mommy?" I called, more out of habit than anything else. She is always the person I call for as soon as I wake up, or whenever I arrive home.

"Yes," she answered. 

"What are you doing?" I asked as I walked into the kitchen buttoning my black polka dot shirt to go with the grey unzipped dress pants I was already wearing. 

"Happy birthday," she said while turning away from the kitchen sink. She had just finished washing the dishes, I presumed. 

"Thanks. What's for breakfast? Did you bake any cake?"

I'm kinda obsessed with cake- food in general- but cake more. Oh, and ice cream. Yes, I've got a major sweet tooth. 

"Yeah, it's in the microwave. There's also fried rice but it isn't finished yet. Should be soon though. Do you wanna take some to work?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll go eat cake now though," I said while already cutting a slice.

My mother left the kitchen, just as I saw my brother enter the house. He had probably just finished sweeping the yard- a daily task assigned to him by my dad. I've always found it quite unfair that he only had one chore and my sister and I had tons.