No Rescue for this Damsel in Distress
I hate those romantic comedies that have the damsel in distress who so helplessly falls into the arms of some trusted cute guy and they romantically fall in love. Pshh! That doesn’t happen in life. We aren’t living in a damn movie. If this was the case, I would be falling in love with cute guys all the time. I trip, I fall, I splatter eggs everywhere and there is never any cute guy waiting to rescue me!
Take this morning for instance; now, I am running on about four hours of sleep. At this point, I’m not sure how I am even functioning enough to peck away at my keyboard. It started off as a day like any other… having my daughter come in and wake me up, falling back to sleep, having my daughter scream at me for probably the thirteenth time, getting up in a panic thinking we were seriously late for school, driving like a mad woman hunched over the wheel of a beat-up truck, racing back home after dropping them off to only realize that I needed to slow down and enjoy life.
Well, I didn’t have work until 1 pm so I thought, meh, I’ll have a couple of fried eggs and enjoy myself for a change. Those fried eggs were looking mighty delicious by the way, all nice and yolky in the skillet. I sat down for a mere minute before I had to get back up and scramble to the stove because… well because I forgot the eggs.
On my way to the stove, I tripped over a TV that had been patiently sitting on the floor of my kitchen waiting for me to add it into my daughter’s room for pure enjoyment. I tripped and ran right into the stove with enough force that the skillet went flying into the air and yolk landed on the ceiling. I’m not sure if you have ever experienced yolk on the ceiling but, it’s not fun to get off, especially when you are 5′ 4 ¾” and can’t find a stepladder.
I stared at the ceiling, watching yolk drip down and felt myself going into emotions that I didn’t want. I laughed instead. I laughed because I already knew how this day would go. It is an ordinary day in the clumsy life of R.D. Hayes where there is never any telling on what might happen and how many bruises that I might end up with.