Monday, am I right?

I was enjoying the best night sleep I’ve had in a while when I feel my phone buzzing. It’s M, the woman I babysit for. At first I think, “excellent, she’s calling to tell me to go back to sleep. She doesn’t need me this morning because she’s not going to work.” But then I look at the time. 5:49am. Shit. My alarm was supposed to go off at 5:05am. I should have been there at least 5 minutes by now. Why didn’t it go off? How did I sleep through it? “My alarm never went off, I’m on my way!”

Now I’m completely frazzled. It’s 5:49am. I stop in the bathroom, I have to pee like you wouldn’t believe. I look at myself in the mirror. My hair is all over the place. My “I wish you were pizza” pajamas will have to cut it. I spray some dry shampoo in my hair, pour some mouthwash in my mouth, skip the pee, kiss my husband goodbye and I’m out the door.

Today is the day I hit every single fucking light you could imagine. Red lights 1, 2, 3 through 6. Doesn’t the universe know I’m in a rush? After 11 minutes, I ¬†pull into the apartment complex. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” There’s no parking spaces. Oh, just kidding! There’s one at the very end. At this point it’s 6:02. I should have been here at 5:45. I run up to the door. My head is pounding and my hands are sweaty. “Hi, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that happened.”

“It’s okay.” said M, “see you tomorrow.”

The girls wake up until 7:15. I’m going to close my eyes for just… a… bit…