I'm not sure why, but I rather enjoy reading about people's uninteresting experiences in life. The more detail, the better.
Here's mine:
This morning was as uneventful as the rest. I stumbled out of bed 10 minutes later than I should have, despite telling myself the night before that I have to be more disciplined. This is the way of life, at least for me, much of the time. I put on a shirt (I sleep shirtless due to the heat) and fumbled my way to the kettle.
I soon realised that the kettle was empty. Fucker. I went to fill it up at the sink, but no water came out. The pump was turned off. Now exasperated, I trudged my way to the surprisingly mild outdoors to turn the pump back on at the source. With this obstacle overcome, I returned and filled up the kettle.
Powdered coffee. Coles' gift to Earth. I confess I am rather uncultured in coffee consumption, and normally just grab a box of sachets of whatever's cheapest. The last time I bought it, it regrettably turned out to be a stronger kind than I normally drink. Oh well. Not a problem. I had been drinking it with milk anyway, problem solved.
I had begun to come to my senses, and I walked 'normally' to the fridge out in the garage. (We moved houses to a place with a smaller fridge hole than can fit ours, so we keep it in the garage. Inconvenient at first, but easy to get used to. There are worse things in life.)
What the fuck. The milk bottle was empty in the fridge. My sister, or some other uncaring fiend, must have gotten to it before I could. This blow was the first to send me reeling, and I stomped back to the kitchen full of exasperation. I thought milk powder would do nicely as a substitute (which it did), so I fumbled through the unorganised miscellaneous food cabinet until I found the jar.
By this point the kettle had finished boiling, so I emptied the coffee's sachet into a mug, and poured it two thirds full of boiling water right after. There were no clean spoons in the draw, and in my morning-inflicted rage I had the poor judgement to instead grab the powder out with my hands. Sure it was uncouth, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Have you heard of Murphy's Law? On the off chance that you haven't, the 'law' theorises that 'Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong'. This proved true once again this morning. My sister entered my vicinity to the sight of me digging through the powdered milk jar with my hands in an apelike fashion. Being her fastidious self, she enquired as to why I was doing this, with all the typical signs of disgust on her face. Equal parts shocked and dumbfounded, I had no answer for her, though I took a brief moment of reflection on how far my morning routine had fallen. Though I may have never been a particularly civilised individual, any semblance of a refined nature had faded from my being.
Both of us feeling defeated for our respective reasons, I continued onto finishing the process of making my coffee while she went back to whatever it was she had been doing. I twisted the knob corresponding to release of cold water from the sink's faucet, though I can recall remarking upon the insignificance of the choice using the hot or cold water knob to top up and simultaneously cool down my coffee with. The water would come out cold either way, having not been given enough time to heat up. Maybe there was some butterfly effect that would change my life drastically, but there's no point in contemplating what will never happen.
My cup filled, and I stopped my pondering for the moment. The battle of making my coffee was done. I pulled a chair out from the table, the chair squealing in protest. I had been meaning to reattach a set of felt protectors to the legs of the chairs, but it would have to wait. I drank my coffee in quick fashion, and went to place it in the dishwasher. My attempt of being conscientious for once was stopped abruptly by the sight of drawers full of clean dishes. The sink would have to do for this lonely mug, at least for now.
I shifted my attention to the oven's digital clock, proudly displaying the time: 7:48. Shit. I was going to miss my bus. I rushed to my room with the urgency and precision of a bat out of hell, disturbing my sleeping dog in the process. He grumbled indignantly at my disrespect, though in the moment I paid it little mind. I got to my room, and began frantically getting changed.
As I reached for my socks, my gaze came upon my personal clock (Digital of course). A wave of relief washed over me like the water of a cold shower on a boiling midsummer day. The actual time was displayed: 7:42! In my frantic rush, I had forgotten that the clock in the kitchen is almost 7 minutes fast. Although this window gave me little room to drag my feet, it felt like I had been declared innocent as my time in death row was coming to a close.
Despite my good fortune, the despair that engulfed me moments before was still fresh in my memory. I wasted no time in pulling my old socks on, though took the time to correct one of the socks being inside out. I rushed from my room down the hallway, sliding over the slick wood floor. Always a child at heart it seems.
I grabbed my phone, my bluetooth earphones and put them in the back and left pockets of my pants respectively. I chose these pockets as the case for my earphones protrudes more than my phone, making it more comfortable to sit down to put my shoes on without the obstruction. My phone stayed in my back pocket because the shorts I put on beforehand have a deeper back pocket than what is equipped for the side.
I took the time to tie my shoes double laced. Why wouldn't I, after all? I had the time, and it would save me from future misfortune of tripping on my shoelaces. (To be fair, the laces have yet to come untied.) With that, my routine was over. I left the house through the back door, as it happens to be situated closer to the destination I was destined to arrive at. (Believe it or not, that repetition was unintentional. I left it there as I found it almost laughable, and perhaps someone else would feel the same way)
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Though nothing of note happened throughout my chronicle, there was an even greater absence of notable moments on the journey to the bus. My story was also becoming quite lengthy, so I thought it appropriate to bring it to a close there.
tl;dr- I overcame various problems to make my morning coffee, and thought I would miss my bus when in reality this was not an issue.
Topic: Mundane events, told in detail. (Read 736 times)