The Search For Sight

I started out this morning well enough. Woke up on time, prayed, did my sit-ups, laid my bed… impatiently through all my sister’s mess of clothes into a bag, then I had a pretty good bath, despite the fact that my she forgot to get more soap. My outfit for the day (which I couldn’t iron the day before THANKS to… yeah, you guessed it)wasn’t looking rumpled at all (kudos to whoever introduced the laying a skirt under the mattress theory). Even my hair was looking slightly sane. All this and I was making good time.
Then the unthinkable happened.
I saw her mascara lying around, so I decided to compliment my all-black outfit with a little-more-than-the-usual-attempt of makeup. My prosthesis wasn’t in, and I turned to my bed. And couldn’t find it. It was a quickie search at first. Then I finished dressing in the hope I’d find it before my ride came. I didn’t. Not when he came, not when I asked for five more minutes. Hell, not even at 7.30am, when all the forces in the world could have gotten me to work on time. At that point, I sent a text to the office, despair and hopelessness seeping in. I didn’t wish for my dad to come out and still meet me there. How would I explain the loss???
I took deep breaths, the whole enchilada, called my sister to check if she hadn’t carried it off… nothing. I pushed out our bed, cleaned out the dark, dusty cavern of death that was the bottom. Nothing. I angrily yelled, “Where the HELL is it?” a couple of times. I wished I could cry, but didn’t. Then I sat down, and started feeling sleepy. Yeah I know. I think that’s my body’s way of telling me to give up. But I didn’t cave in to that temptation. I still had time to get my act together. On the upside, my room’s spotless now. I swept, folded, packed…
I found it at about 8.45, lying in my sister’s bag. Yes, in my attempt to be Martha Stewart (i.e the packing of my sister’s stuff earlier), I had caused myself inadvertent pain, sweating and cursing. So I ran off to work.
Just so you know, finding a bus to the Island from Anthony after 7 am is a deep and magical quest of which many have tried and few have succeeded. I git to work, by 10.30, sweaty, bruised (thanx to some heavy dude at the busstop that decided to walk backward), flustered and yet, strangely, pleasant.
I felt so pleasant, in fact, that I was a little bothered. My morning sucked. I was REALLY HUNGRY. Yet I felt … peaceful. Just 2 days into my new life plan, and I’m becoming a freak.
Got seven, yes SEVEN new staff yesterday. All chicks. Oh hurray. There’s literally no where to put them.
Public hol tomorrow! Yeah! I get to… well, nothing really.


One thought on “The Search For Sight

  1. Internet readers tend to return to blogs with a focused theme.

    They also like shorter posts, smaller bites, as well as photos of general interest, see wht I mean:

    good luck


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