indecisive (on hold)

3.

(286 days before)

I wake to the sound of my alarm. I roll over and stretch out my arm to feel around for my phone. After about ten seconds of the constant beeping, I get annoyed and open my eyes. My room is still dark, the only light coming from the floor. The phone must have fallen last night and ended up face down on the floor. I quickly grab it, beyond irritated with the noise and shut it off. I set my phone on my bedside table and yawn. I stretch my back and my arms. Suddenly, I feel a burning sting from my left forearm.  I glance at it to see seven red marks all the way across my arm. I completely forgot I did that last night. 

I feel a ping of disappointment in myself, I get up and head to the bathroom. I flick on the lights and am temporarily blinded. When I adjust, I turn on the water and wash my face. Feeling a little cleaner, I cross the hall again to my bedroom. I soon illuminate the room. I am welcomed with the familiar, small room, light gray walls and plain furniture. I grab my phone to put on music. I hate getting ready in silence. It makes me uncomfortable. Going to my playlist, I hit shuffle.  All Comes Down by Kodaline fills the tiny space. I suddenly feel myself transitioning into a better mood. Bobbing my head and kicking my feet slightly, I head to my closet to pick out my clothes for the day.

I grab my favorite pair of Hollister jeggings. I love jeggings, period. I love how they stretched and I don’t need to jump and down, bugging my neighbors downstairs, while I try to fit into the jeans. Normal jeans make me feel insecure, I  always squeeze them up my thighs. And I am too lazy to go and buy a bigger size, needing to buy a bigger size makes me insecure.  I throw them onto my bed and strip off my pajamas. I go to my drawers to retrieve a plain, nude bra and some nude underwear. After putting those on so I am not so naked, I return to my closet for some clothes.

 It is July, so the weather will be a little hot. But, I live in Colorado so not too hot.  However, where I work is always cold so I need something extra. I grab a plain, white, long-sleeve tee and a black and white checkered button up. I pull the long sleeve over my head, then slid the button up on. The button up falls to my waist, just perfect. I tuck in the white t-shirt and put on a belt. Normally, I would roll up the sleeves to my elbows, but due to my cuts, I have to leave them down today. I go to the mirror to fix my birds nest.  I undo the french braid from last night and put it into a loose, side fishtail. I add a few coats of black mascara. I never cake my face with makeup, only adding mascara to make my naturally grey eyes pop a little more. Next, I go back to the bathroom for a wiz and brush my teeth. After I wipe my face clean, I grab my phone to check the time.

It is 7:28. I need to be at work at 8:00 to open up. I work at Barnes and Nobles. That place is like my second home. I love being surrounded by the endless number of books. The store is right down the street so I decide I will pick up a coffee on the way. I headed into my room to grab my shoes and bag. My shoes are some all black Converse and my bag is a simple tan, messenger bag. I wear it over my shoulder and it contains everything I will ever want and need. For example, a book, chap stick, tampons, painkillers, mascara, money, pencils, gum, my journal, a charger, etc. I throw it over my shoulder, grab my phone and head out the door, safely locking it behind me. I  quickly make my way down the apartment complex stairs. I was lucky enough to find an apartment complex near my soon to be campus, for decent rent, that came with a two story apartment. I walk out of the gates and head down the sidewalk. It's a pretty day. Little wind, a few clouds, a little sun and no humidity. I head into the Starbucks for my daily dose of caffeine.

“Hi, Liz!” Exclaims the familiar red head.

“Hey, Donna.” I smile. Donna and I are... friends? We say "hi" here and there, but we never really hang out beyond that. I just came in here so often I was bound to become a regular. It is nearly empty this morning and I smile, knowing I don't have to wait.