Life, Love, Mates?

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Ellie:

I wake to the annoying chimes of my alarm clock, dammit, sometimes I could skip a day, maybe two. Deciding to take myself up on the advice I hit the clock, and am rewarded with silence. Then I roll over in my full size bed, and try to snuggle further down into my big, soft, fluffy navy comforter with orange tiger lilies on it. In a second attempt, I pull one of my big, white pillows over my face.

Yeah, this should work!

At least, those are my famous last words as the clock, the evil clock starts harping at me to get up from my soft and warm cocoon. Finally, I tiredly proclaim, "You know what, you win!" as I leave the safe haven of my bed, for the cold wooden floor, and day of adulting. At least it's Sunday and the town is old fashioned. Off to get ready for St. Thomas' Church. I quickly turn off my clock, and see that the time is 5:50am.

I scurry out of my room, not trusting myself so close to the bed, and proceed down the long hall to the bathroom. Thankfully, I put in a plush, soft, grey rug so my feet will feel more comfortable as they wake up. I look at my appearance in the full length mirror to find a messier version of myself. At this I yawn, and proceed to get ready in the white-walled wooden bathroom.

By the time I recollect myself in front of the glass, I see a much more put together version of myself. My just-past-the-shoulder length dark, unruly hair in a wet and messy up-do. My warm, brown colored skin highlighted in my yellow sunflower sundress and brown inch heels, and my makeup lightly applied to highlight my obsidian eyes. Damn, I think I look functional and not like a slob today! Yay, team!

Packing up the tools I utilized in the bathroom, I exit and make my way back to my room to grab my cardigan, purse, and phone. Hastily glancing at my battered clock, I see that it is already 6:45. Dammit I have to leave now if I want to make it to church by 7:30. Without a minute to spare I dash out of the room, down the hall, then the stairs, through the hall in between the kitchen and the living room, out the door and to my jeep, Clara.

In a rush I jerk my seat belt, so i try to calm myself in order to make a successful second attempt. In that minute of patience, worry, and attempted self control I look up out the window and wonder if I am going to see Bubbie. Maybe I shouldn't after that weird dream the other day? 

When, I spot something that disproves my hazy assumption of last night. The note, that poem, AJ, Bubbie. It was not a dream. What the hell! Maybe I really am losing it. Breaking my bewildered staring contest with the note from last night over there in the grass, I look at the time to see that ten minutes has elapsed. I easily put on the belt, and start praying for the best as I slam on the gas pedal to make it there, and find parking on time. There are somethings in life you do to mesh with your community. 

Pretend to be religious... check. Be more social... check. Drink sweet tea... check. Pick up the accent ... check. Pick up on their culture... definitely. Be late to their weekly town mass.... might as well change your name and run for cover.

Hopefully I will make it, if not they may to be so welcoming in general, and at the town meeting later. Dammit it all to hell!