Y-O-U.

you wake up to the blaring of your alarm clock. and your brain struggles to fight your peaceful, semi-comatose state of mind. you grumble as it reluctantly brushes off the lovely webs of slumber and dreamland. you open your eyes only to find out that fine pieces of muta are stuck between your lashes and as you disgustedly rub away the yellowish excretions of your tear ducts, you discover the unusual amount of drool on your pillow. you groan and you moan and say, “this is gonna be one of those days.”

your ears begin to function and your sense of hearing recognizes the distant roaring of thunder and rain. you resist the urge to stay in bed covered in your warm and comfy blankets and begrudgingly amble towards the kitchen. you open the refrigerator only to find a tupperware of two-week old spaghetti, an opened bottle of cali shandy and pasteurized cheese sticks. you frown and mentally note to tell your irresponsible mother to go grocery shopping or her beautiful baby girl would die of hunger and starvation. you look at the clock. you have twenty minutes to eat, shower, get dressed and go to work. but for the glorification of procrastination, you plop down on the couch and eat a pack of skyflakes in super slow motion. after dusting off the cracker crumbs and gulping agua, you head to the bathroom.

as you take your clothes off, your body hairs stand on end and you realize how cold it is. you fervently wish for a heater as the cold water comes in contact with your shivering body. you reach out for the bottle of shampoo and it squirts a miniscule amount not even enough to shampoo your eyebrows. you mentally curse your fate.

you get out of the shower with your hair smelling like safeguard soap and get dressed. but oh no, the shirt you were planning on wearing today is still in the dirty laundry basket. you sigh and resign to the idea of a wardrobe overhaul.

you get out of the house sporting your second-rate choice of outfit and mentally curse the gods for the bleak, depressing weather. you hail a cab… no passenger but doesn’t stop. you think the driver must be fighting cataract… and since time is chewing your ass you reluctantly get on a jeepney and absorb all the peculiar aromas the world has to offer. and just when you begin to think that you would go into anaphylactic shock from the rawness of human odor that is distinctively emanating from your seatmate, somebody hops into the jeepney clutching a live,wild,rebellious and possibly rabid rooster with claws bigger than shaquille o’neal’s feet. it scares the living daylights out of you. you get to your destination, scramble from the jeepney and your feet lands on a puddle of mud. your  feet gets soaked, your pantlegs get wet and your blood pressure goes to outer space.

you sigh and start grumbling about the crappy morning you had to your officemate. she giggles and laughs and continues on filing her nails, too absorbed in her perfect world. you think she’s unsympathetic. and you want to pull out her fingernails with barbed wire and a pair of pliers.

today is not your day. your computer short circuits, your pens don’t write, you don’t meet your deadlines, since you obviously don’t have  your computer, and in the middle of the afternoon, you get your frikkin’ period and you realize that you don’t have any stock of the god-forsaken sanitary pads. you curse your uterus for bleeding. you go to the ladies’ room with the intent of electrocuting yourself with the hand dryer and guess what? the toilet refuses to flush down remnants of your gastronomical pursuits. you wanna cry but out of sheer frustration, you resort to punching the cubicle wall with a feeble fist and you end up with scratches and marks and injuries that could possibly result to bone fracture.

you go home with a heavy heart, a throbbing head, injured fists and aching fallopian tubes. you climb into bed and cover yourself with your warm blankets wishing that mother earth would just swallow you up and spit you out to pluto. your doorbell rings and your sister screams that you have a visitor. you scream at the top of your tired old lungs telling her that you don’t wanna see anybody unless it’s the grim reaper who has graciously come to take you to the netherworld. and after she yells back that she thinks you’re an anti-social bitch who needs therapy, you grumble and drag yourself to the front door.

and you look up and you see HIM standing there… the sunshine of your day, your knight in shining armor, your very own prince charming… and he gives you that cute little crooked smile of his, wraps his arms around you and gives you a quick kiss and says,”hi baby. i miss you.” your tired, semi-suicidal heart melts as he hands you a pack of your favorite pasta (!!!), a paperbag full of musketeers,m&m’s and cloud nine chocolates and a box of sanitary pads. aw. you think of today’s series of unfortunate events, look into his cheeky little eyes, smile and think, “yep.this is one of those days.” 🙂