Alarm Clocks and Monday Mornings
Damn Monday mornings!
They should be illegal. Why do I hate Monday mornings again? Because of the amount of pain and sadness they pose to all the people who need their beauty sleep and are denied this necessity because of their stupid alarm clock.
That is my best fried Jasmine, or Jazz, as I prefer to call her.
"Yeah, I'm getting up." My voice was muffled by my pillow, but I know she heard me.
"Hurry up.... we have our first day today. I don't wanna be late. And breakfast is ready."
My stomach growled in response to her breakfast line. She chuckled.
"Now I know you're definitely up." She said in a sing-song voice that I found very very irritating.
How can someone be so chirpy so early? I don't understand.
I dragged myself to the bathroom to get ready and was ready in a matter of ten minutes. I didn't like to waste my time perfecting myself for school. I mean it's just school, right. Not a fashion show or a once in a lifetime opportunity to show your beauty.
I ran down the stairs to the dining room where Henry, Jasmine's dad, was having breakfast ready for work as usual while her mom, Emma, was talking to her about her grades and not losing concentration and what not.
As Jazz saw me enter, she pleaded with her eyes to interrupt their conversation. I decided to help her out.
"Mornin' Emma. Morning Henry."
They both turned to me.
Henry mumbled a soft good morning as Emma looked at me up and down.
I suddenly felt self concious. I was wearing a white crop top with black jeans. The top was a little out of my comfort zone but Emma had specially laid them out for me last night. So I didn't think she would say anything about my dressing sense but I still had my doubts.
"You look pretty, sweetie. You should wear this more often." She said, much to my relief.
"Pretty's on the inside" Jazz sang Chloe Adams.
"You please keep quite young lady, I am talking to your sis..."
Emma stopped, realising the mistake she was going to make.
I repeated the mantra in my head again and again as I grabbed an apple from the fruit basket.
"I'm so sorry honey."
"It's alright Emma. Come on Jazz, we'll be late." I said as I slowly walled out of the house towards our car.