Holt's Holding (Part One) - By A Dagmara
The alarm clock, now screaming at me. Opening my eyes and staring up at the white ceiling, I couldn’t for the life of me understand, the who, and why, someone would invent such an obnoxious sound.
Throwing my hand over to the nightstand, I think I had just about hit everything, but the alarm clock.
Where in the hell is the damn snooze button?
I turned looking at the clock as it flashed 5:30 am. Thanks to the beltway traffic, getting up this early is mandatory. I needed another five minutes in bed; that I can’t afford.
Damn! My head is throbbing. What was I thinking? Taking that many shots in one night, I was asking for punishment.
Going out in the middle of the week is insane. I have a job to get to, and this morning of all mornings, I’ll be sitting thru meetings most of the day.
I was in hell.
There was no doubt I had only myself to blame.
Overindulging in happy hour, which typically turned into a late night, was normal, but not a midweek occurrence. Now, I would pay for it at work. Where in the hell was all my perfectly honed discipline? That’s right I abandoned it with wild anticipation, taking three too many shots of patron, and knowingly drunk, when I had done so.
This was clearly restless nerves of my past surfacing and now today of all days!
Work what a joke. I hated my job, but it was one, that would lead me precisely where I had always planned. Or in my mind fantasized.
I honestly thought I would like being a junior editor for an advertising agency. Well, it’s more like a “be my personal bitch” oh get my “coffee” type of job.
I didn’t spend 4years in undergrad, and another three in graduate school, to learn how to make coffee and fetch dry cleaning. I was a glorified assistant if anyone actually wanted to know what I did. Fuck, I was probably smarter than the entire staff put together. Nevertheless, I needed this facade to facilitate my end goals.
Shaking my head, “I can’t afford to be late”.
Pulling me out of bed was painful. I stood to my feet and circled around my bed to the bathroom.
Reaching in to the shower, turning it on, I went to the vanity grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste.
Living in this building had some advantages, but getting hot water, was not one of them. I had to wait for the cold water to run thru for at least a couple of minutes.
Therefore, this was always the routine. Turn the water on, brush teeth, and then shower.
Stepping into the shower was what I needed to wake myself. Washing quickly was necessary, as I didn’t allow for much time to putts around. I strived and lived for the routines I created. They held, what little, sanity and control, I had in my life.
Hurrying myself out of the bathroom, and rushing into the kitchen, I was still dripping from the shower.
Dressed in nothing but my towel that was better suited to dry my hair in; I needed to get the coffee started. This was undoubtedly me multi-tasking. Turning on lights as the sun has yet to lite the apartment. I noticed the coffee pot, as well smelled fresh coffee brewed.
Hmm, the coffee already made. I stood there a bit confused, staring at the coffee maker.
I was sure my roommate Julie wouldn’t have been up this early. She liked to sleep in, and early in her world was nine am.
However, there was no need to question, as its one less thing for me to do.
“Little miracles.” I whispered
I opened the cabinet and reached for a “to go” coffee cup, and poured it full. Placing it on the counter, opening the fridge, my eyes landed at the door for the creamer. Black coffee just would not do. I love -me –some- creamer!
Pulling it free from the door, I slammed it shut turning to the island where my cup stood.
Damn, my head hurt. I reached over for the Advil popping out four pills into my palm.
“Ugh, I’m in hell!” I spoke aloud.
Taking the pills urgently, I finished pouring the creamer. Pulling the mug to my lips, I took a sip to help the pills down.
Wow, this coffee was exceptionally yummy. Not that, it normal was bad; this pot was not my regular coffee.
A strong scent of men’s cologne invaded my nose. Within a moment of physical recognition, all the hairs on my neck stood to the shock. Fuck me. The first