Walk A Paragraph

Dear Diary:

I know its going to be a long day today. Its sale day at Suzanne’s, a day that it looked forward to all who shop there regularly, but not to me. Your “happy” sales clerk. Dealing with all complaints with a smile and a quick fix, I’m also the one who tells hundreds of customers over and over again how great they look in a shirt I would much rather see on me and not them. Anyway, I start my day by waking up to the piercing sound of Ryan Seacrest and 7:30 in the morning and slowly rolling out of my comfortable and warm bed and slipping on my glasses. Stepping on to the cold hardwood floor I make my way out to the small kitchen and make myself a coffee. I watch the morning news till I drain my coffee and then slowly start the task of getting ready. Picking out the right outfit and styling my curly hair doesn’t take long, and before you know it I am in my car, heading towards the mall. My first job of the day, after moving sale racks and fixing crumpled clothes, is to blow up sale balloons. A relatively painless, and easy job, or so I thought. Standing in the small, cramped window display I begin blowing up the colorful balloons, as the enclosed area slowly becomes filled with the sales advertisements I realize how little room I have to move. Slowly, taking small steps, I make my way over to where no balloons have fallen, avoiding popping any until the heel of my boots grazes a blue balloon. The result is loud and magnified in the window display; my scream is very high pitched and no doubt had attracted the attention of teenage girl sitting on the couches near the store. I don’t dare look; I instead quickly arrange the balloons in an artful matter and hurriedly run out to admire my work before disappearing into the store. The day as I anticipated was long and full of complaints, but it is now done and I am peacefully sitting with my cat Chester, watching Day of Our Lives. I hear my T.V dinner revolving slowly in the microwave, and the smell of plastic chicken and fake corn is wafting over to me. I hear the faint ting as the 3 minutes comes to an end and make my way to retrieve the bland food. Again I go sit with Chester and tell him about my day and think about how tomorrow will be better, since sale day is over and there will be no more balloons to be blown up. But I must go now, since House is on and I can’t miss it, so goodnight diary.

Debra