I found some dust on my new granite counter tops after the cleaning lady left the other day. I was so upset. What do I pay that woman for? To leave dust? I think not. And then the landscaper forgot to even up one of the hedges out front. I wanted to scream. Some may say I’m a perfectionist but it’s simply that I like things “just so” and done the right way. My way. There’s nothing wrong with that. I would fire them but it’s such a hassle to find someone new.
They don’t know what kind of house I grew up in. How the smell of mold and mildew lingered in the air. How my mother rarely washed our sheets and I was so glad when I learned how to do it myself. I was tired of waking up with red splotches on my skin. And what about the gobs of dog and cat hair that was always everywhere? She yelled at me if I ever complained about how much my eyes watered and itched. She loved those damn animals more than us.
I ran 10 miles this morning and my left knee started to bother me a little bit. Otherwise I probably would have a gone longer. I did it pretty fast though so that was good. My neighbor friend won’t run with me because she says I’m too fast for her. I have to run fast. I have to stay thin.
My mother barely made it up the stairs in our house most days. She laid on the sofa a lot watching the television and eating and eating. I was so happy to go to school once I was old enough. I wanted to play soccer but she was too lazy to even take me to practice. I played after school some days with some of the other kids. It felt so good to run and score a goal. There were days that she was asleep when I got home and she didn’t even know I’d walked in. I was glad.
I need to prepare today’s lessons for the boys and then they have art class this afternoon. Thankfully I can run errands for the birthday party. I hope the baker makes the cake exactly as I asked. I would hate to have to complain. Again. And I need to take my blouse to the cleaners and run the Range Rover through the car wash. I can’t stand the green pollen that has collected all over my hood and windshield.
The dust in the house was inches thick unless I picked up a rag and ran it across the furniture. I learned to maneuver a vacuum pretty early in life. I also had dishpan hands by the time I was 10. I ate a lot of peanut butter sandwiches and macaroni and cheese.
I hope the organic fruit I bought at the market yesterday stays good for the party. And Jack better not fight me on what he’s going to wear for the celebration. The boys have to match and look perfect.
I didn’t go to her funeral. I had just arrived in Paris on the trip of a lifetime with some of my best friends. It was my senior year of college. I didn’t want to leave. Dad managed to get in touch with me and said she died in her sleep. He and my step mom were unsure of when. A neighbor had found her. In a way I needed to thank her for making me who I am. Because I never wanted to be like her. It’s too bad I didn’t get to tell her.
Is there someone who drives you crazy?
Someone who really gets under your skin.
It doesn’t have to be someone you know…
Now, write a first-person piece – as if YOU are this individual. Write from his or her perspective and include the things that really bother you.
This is FICTION and not based on anyone I know. Perhaps “inspired by” someone though…