My Monday

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My Monday

Faint, distant voices echo through the dense, plastered walls. Only seconds later, I hear the ear-splitting clamor, resonating from my jet-black alarm clock. Twisting and turning around, fighting my way through the entangling satin sheets, I find my way to the source of the bellowing sound, and then I clumsily hit the snooze button. Eight peaceful minutes pass until the same obnoxious sound calls out again. This time, I willfully hit the tiny, round off button. Stretching my stiff arms towards the stars, and yawning like a bear after waking from a long, deep hibernation, I stumble out of bed and put my fuzzy, red and black ladybug slippers on my tired, cold feet. A look of horror appears on my face when I see my frazzled hair in a far away mirror. Regaining my composure, I continue onward to the subdued, vacant bathroom, to get ready for another unpredictable, manic Monday.

First things first, I flip the light on to activate the dormant bathroom, and I answer nature's call. After washing my hands in the tepid water, I grab my nut-brown hairbrush, and battle my way through the overwhelming tangles. Completing that formidable task, I pull the round, blue bottle of Noxzema out of the golden, oak cabinet to wash my face. Scents of menthol, camphor, and eucalyptus filter through my head and awaken my senses. Now fully awakened, I scamper to the kitchen, grabbing my blue and yellow bag of doughnuts, and pouring myself a cup of cold milk. Chocolate tickles my nose when I open my bag of delicious doughnuts. While enjoying my savory breakfast, the bong of the grandfather clock warns me that it is almost time to depart from my comfy home.

Immediately I gather all of my belongings, jump in my red Oldsmobile, and rush to ...

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...me wish the end of the day came faster, so I can go to work.

Coincidentally enough, the dismissal bell rings, and I am off to work. When I get to work, my boss sends me to the warehouse to plant an endless amount of tiny, green petunias. The smell of fertilizer and cocoa mulch gives me a splitting headache that rests at the base of my head. After three long hours of tedious work, I exhaustedly drive home.

My mom greets me when I arrive at home, and I watch television with her for a short time. I then help her grill a thick, juicy steak, and bake russet potatoes for dinner. After dinner I take a long, hot, invigorating shower. I finish up my chores and eat a snack before turning in. Finally, I tell my parents goodnight, and I crawl into my maroon, satin sheets, pulling my soft, down comforter over my tired head, already dreaming of what's in store for tomorrow.

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