The warmth of the morning sun stirred me awake. I laid there still sprawled out on my still-made bed and stretched my arms above me. I could feel the tightness of my clothes as they hugged me back, something my pajama's never did...
Glancing down I noticed I had never changed. Beside me on the end of the bed was my phone where it sat, waiting. Did Eric ever message me when he got home?
I jumped to my knees and crawled to my phone before collapsing and bringing my phone to life with the press of a button.
'5 unread messages', it read.
I cringed. He probably thought I was trying to avoid him after how last night went. I wanted to bury my face in my bedsheets. Ugh.
Nevertheless, I had to see what those messages said. I slid my finger over the raised buttons gently, as if that might reflect what those messages might contain. My heart raced as I opened the messages that displayed in a one way conversation.
"I made it home safely. I hope you had a good night. I really like being with you, even if its hanging out in a blanket fort and drinking bubbly juice. :)"
"Flora? Are you okay? I hope you're not upset about what happened tonight. If it helps, I'm truly sorry. I don't mean to be so straight-forward."
"Well... I think you're asleep. If you get this message, I want to say goodnight. Sweet dreams. And that I love you."
"Btw, I have work in the morning. I don't know how long I'll be gone this time, but I'll try to get home as soon as I can. I miss you and I'll talk to you later."
I miss you, too, I said to myself. I always hated it when he went to work. My thoughts went to all its dangers. The heavy machinery, explosions, unsafe gases escaping from the depths of the earth. Even the season inching closer and closer to winter, I didn't even want to imagine him driving off the road on the dangerously narrow trails up on the mountain.
It was true. Being in love with one in the oil field sucked. I wanted more than anything to switch my mind from that to focus on starting my day. So far it wasn't the greatest, but maybe I could salvage something... like making something for breakfast.
To begin, maybe a change of clothes would be nice.
I got a hold of the bottom of my sweater and pulled it effortlessly up my chest and over my head. I dropped it on the floor where yesterdays clothes still lay and shimmied my snug jeans off of the gentle curve of my hips, down my thighs and tiptoed out of them.
Exposed to the chill morning air I took long strides to the dresser and slipped into a fitting, striped black and white shirt and dark jeans. Since the weather was becoming a bit more frigid, I put on thick socks that stretched up half of my leg.
I threw on my old Eeyore jacket, zipped it up halfway and walked briskly towards the kitchen.
Even in these warmer socks the cold tile still felt bitterly cold.
Examining the contents of the fridge there was a half carton of eggs, an empty milk gallon and a couple sour cream containers filled with some form of left overs from the past month. There was some mac and cheese in one, a foul smelling remainder of what resembled green beans and an unknown substance that could've gained legs and walked away. Bleh...
My cupboards were bare except for a few cans of beans, cream of corn and an open box of Cheerios, something I didn't even like. For the life of me I don't know why I even bought them since I am more appealed to the sugary, not-so-good-for-you types better.
The reality of my morning - I was in dire need to go shopping. I grabbed a handful of Cheerios and threw them in my mouth and searched for my purse. I chewed them forcefully to finally swallow the mush they were dissolving into.
Rummaging through the contents of my purse I pulled out the floral fabric wallet which contained $41. That at least had to be enough to get something for the week. I threw it back in hastily, zipped it up and slung it across my shoulder before grabbing the keys hanging on a nail beside the door and stepping outside.