Just another Monday.

So, waking up this morning was harder than the last few. I was lying in bed, and woke up three quarters of an hour earlier than my alarm was supposed to wake me up at (that’s a whole 45 minutes I lost). I hate it when this happens. I mean, I go to bed late, and wake up earlier than the usual? My body must hate me. My window was open, (I’m weird, I know.) and I did not want to step onto the cold hard-wooden floor in my bedroom. As much as I love the cold, even I do not enjoy stepping onto the cold floor when I’ve been nice and toasty all night. So, I waited, and waited. Time passed slowly. The minutes went by, tick-tocking away. By the time 15 minutes had gone I had started to think. No-one should be submitted to my collection of thoughts so early in the morning (especially not me).

I hadn’t had a serious thought in a few days. It was like my brain was on auto-pilot. Then, before I knew it assignments had poured into my flow of thinking (I didn’t ask for this). I started to think about the tests I had coming up, and the projects due. Then I thought, wait! I know what to do. I’ll write a story about my trip to nursery Monday morning. So, here we are.

So we did our morning routine: cleaned our teeth; brushed our hair; washed our faces; ate our breakfast (not necessarily in that order); and got dressed – we headed out. Such a storm hit us, like prickling icicles that shot down from the heavens (It was just hailstones). I grabbed my daughter, and protected her with my shield (my umbrella).  I twirled it around, and reflected the hard boulders of ice. My shield held well. The weather subsided, and we made our journey towards the school, and across the road. We looked both ways just in case any horses were running (cars), and was confronted by a tornado that threw gusts of air at us (the wind). The ice returned, and it shot down as though it was guided by the Gods themselves (the clouds, in this case). We reached the railway bridge around the corner of the pubs and shops and I held my umbrella strongly. I felt like a Spartan with a spear. I held firmly on the handle, and imagined King Leonidas I (Gerard Butler) shouting “HOLD!”and so I did. Baby in one hand, and my spear (umbrella) in the other. It worked very well, up until the wind tricked me, and changed direction.

It grew tactile, and over-came my defences (it came from behind me). My hand held the spear so firm that the wind would have taken us before the day came where I let go. Instead, the wind claimed my umbrella and the umbrella spiralled into the air, going up as high as the houses around us. I propose that the Gods needed a new umbrella. The umbrella shot over the houses and was lost to me. All that was left was the handle, along with my hand still wrenched around it. I had to take my coat off, and wreathe it around my daughter to protect her from the ice as it infuriatingly pestered me.

It was like a woodpecker pecking at the bark of my flesh (my skin) and they thought they had won, oh, ho-ho. When we got to the University I ran for the lift up to the library, made a dash for the open-walled stilted building supports that had a ceiling (luckily). We rested, and when I gained the strength I ran up the two sets of stairs. When we had reached the top the hail got worse, and could have been called a storm. It hammered down and really started to hurt. With all my might, (and not long to go) I headed for H-block where we ever so casually walked through the building, able to access J-block and come out by the nursery. On the other-side of J-block we eventually reached the summit of the mountain that the nursery sat on (small hill). climbed up rocks (broken concrete), avoided wild predators (two rabbits), and finally reached the big red button that won us the level (the buzzer to enter the nursery). When we got inside, everyone was casually sat down with the rest of the kids, oblivious to the quest I had undertaken, and so I sat my daughter down, gave her a kiss and said goodbye.

When I left the nursery, I stopped to think, “Why was everyone staring at me when we walked in?” I looked down. The handle of the umbrella was still wrenched to my hand. I made my way to the canteen, bought a coffee, and sat down. I wiped the water, and melting ice off of my bag, and smiled, “Just another Monday.”


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