6:59 AM I wake up to start the routine, getting ready to wake up, getting ready to get ready to go to work. 7:55 AM I have a few minutes before I absolutely must slide out of bed, push myself to move in order to be on time. 30 minutes is the absolute least amount of time to be able to make believe like I am making the bed, the least amount of effort, a shake of the comforter, up in the air, floats cumbersome, landing on the bed, covering the majority with few adjustments. Smoothe it out to cover the pillows, the corners and my old plush stuffed monkey. This constitutes the one act of leaving things cleaned up when I leave the house. I grab my towel and head down the hallway to the bathroom, to take a shower. I am painfully aware that I now have 27 minutes to pee and shit, I look forward to sitting on my new toilet seat, good quality. It took me two years to realize the landlord was not going to replace it and that I had to buy a new one, spend 21 dollars and 52 cents, because I deserved to pee on a seat without a crack that pinches my ass if I sit with my weight slightly to the left! 27 minutes to clean my body, arms first, neck, shoulders, breasts, belly, belly button. Gotta get in the creases as I have gained a considerable, perverse unhealthy upsetting amount of weight. Legs, feet, coochie and booty last, brush my teeth-yes, in the shower- pat dry as my 7th grade gym teacher, Mr. Piccinini always said is the best way to dry up. Hang up the towel. Stand in from of the sink, look in the mirror at my tired eyes, ask myself every morning, who am I? Looking like Mami, more and more, as the days go by. Apply deodor-ant, left armpit, right armpit, moisturize with another new lotion that I hope will keep my skin soft and hydrated, apply to face in an upward motion, make believe it will make a difference as the creases get deeper and the wrinkles get wrinkle-lier. Elbows, upper arm flabs, shoulders, stomach, backside-afraid those hair bumps will never smooth out-legs and heals only if I haven't stepped on the floor, which leaves residue and feels nasty on my hands. If I am in the mood, apply eye liner or tweeze out chin hairs or pluck an unruly hair embedded in the corners of my upper and lower lips! I try not to skip any of these steps in caring for my body, what may appear pedestrian, took me 3 years of therapy to create a routine of caring for myself, starting with making sure I bathe and groom on a daily basis, as to not fall into a slump and a slippery slide back down into the black hole that once provided comport and protection from the evils of my past lives. 8:21AM I have to put some pep in my step. I can't miss my Dunkin Donuts run; medium iced coffee, extra extra whole milk, 4 splendas and a bacon egg and cheese on a cinnamon raisin bagel or breakfast wrap or old fashioned donut. What to wear? Decide grey or black work slacks, print or black top to camouflage my chichos, lumps, and bumps, or a skirt with a loose fitting top. Shoes for comfort if I have meetings and need to move back and forth from the Kimmel or our admin offices two blocks down the street or heels if I will be at my desk all day. 8:29 AM gotta get outta here! Purse, car/house keys, open the door, cell phone...where is it? Not in my purse! Run to my bedroom at the end of the hallway, unplug, back down the hallway, open Damani's bedroom door, he's had it closed for the past few years now, wake him up to say goodbye, see if he needs anything or remind him of a task he's been forgetting to do for the past month, then luv you have a good day call me with anything or i'll call you later. Down the rest of the hallway, hand on doorknob, open the door, bells ring as they hit up against the door.
6:59 AM I wake up to start the routine, getting ready to wake up, getting ready to get ready to go to work. Work? It has a different look these days.
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