Running Late... Again

*A very special THANK YOU to my friend, Catherine, for my AMAZING new Lucky Dog Rescue Blog header!!!

Is your life crazy? Like, legally insane crazy? Well... maybe I can make you feel better about yourself. Here’s a glimpse into the chaos of my early morning routine: Part 1.

I wake up, look at the clock, and say, “Son-of-a-MOTHER-of-a-french-face! I’m late!”
The ridiculous part... is that I already knew I was late, before I ever saw the time. It happened yesterday... and all the days before that one. Sure.. in all honesty, I’m my own boss, so I’m only “late” ... per the rules I set for myself. The definition of “useless” is being late... per your own damn rules.

I jump out of bed. Throw on some clothes. Attempt to brush my hair. Wash my face and brush my teeth. I take a second to consider makeup. Then, I laugh out loud, and get real: “Um… yeah…no… makeup is for people who can wake up on time. You’re LATE.” I scrap that idea... and run out of the bathroom, as if there’s a bomb inside.

Meanwhile, my dogs watch, as the madness goes down. They’re used to this by now... but they still find it slightly-amusing… in a highly-useless kind of way. See... their only concern in the morning is going outside to potty... and getting their breakfast. Since my lateness affects their schedule... they’re basically pissed… every day. I see them checking their watches and tapping their feet, like, “Yeah, we’re gonna have to address the tardiness.” So, I rush to get them out and fed... before they fire my ass.

I consider breakfast for myself. It is --of course-- the most important meal. I look at the clock… and realize that breakfast is only "important" ... if you have time for it. I, however, do not have time… due to my lateness. Instead, I search for something edible and portable. I scan the kitchen, and spot a banana. Um... JACKPOT! I grab the banana... and reach for my purse to throw it inside…

Ummm… where the FRENCH is my purse? I start tossing items onto the floor, in search of the piece-of-crap purse that somehow disappears on a daily-freaking-basis. You’d think by now... I would’ve learned to simply put it in the same damn place each time. But what fun is that, right? I like a freaking-challenge every time I need to leave the house. Then... I hear myself asking the dogs if they’ve seen my purse. Yeah… they don’t respond.

Aha! There you are, Purse! What’s wrong with you, Handbag… hiding from me under the table? Come on out, Pursey-Smurse. I’m not going to rob you. We both know there’s not a stitch of cash inside your ass anyway.

Shoes... I need shoes. I find one shoe… under the couch. As I reach underneath, I find a second shoe... that doesn’t match the first… but it’s good to know I have options. When you’re late, the need to “match” is really quite low. Even still, I choose to waste an additional 10 minutes on the missing shoe. I frantically run through each room, as if in a maze... with no freaking exit. I look at the clock again, and cuss myself for being so useless. “Seriously, Ash?! EVERY FREAKING DAY?!”

... Got it! Other shoe was in Darla’s crate. It’s half-chewed… has more of that open-toed feel now… but it could still pass for a shoe in most third-world countries. So, I throw it on, and head out the door…

Crap! Keys. My car says it needs "keys." Seems a little demanding, right? But really... I need that car... more than it needs me. I search. I dig. I stop… and think: Keys… where the HELL did I put my damn keys?! My friend bought me a Key Finder… but I can’t seem to find it.

Son of a biscuit! Seriously… how can one person lose EVERYTHING they own, every single day?! It seems a little unnecessary, of course. For most people... it’s nearly impossible... to do something so damn stupid... on a consistent-freaking basis. But not for me. Oh, no. I reach for the stars.

I’m pretty pissed at myself about the missing keys... and also a little parched from the work I’ve put in thus far. So, I open the fridge, to grab a drink. JACKPOT! Keys are on the refrigerator shelf... where I always keep them. Duh.

I grab the keys. Lock the door. Run to the car. Crank the car. Run back to the door because I forgot my drink. Run back to the car because I forgot my keys. Grab keys. Unlock door. Grab drink. Lock door. Run to car. Crank and drive.

Driving to Lucky Dog… I reach for my purse… and look at that. I forgot it.  

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