The next writing assignment for non(fiction) class.
I don’t tell lies, I live them.
I woke up this morning, looked at my wrist watch and saw that it was 8 o’clock. I immediately jumped up, and out of bed. Found the polka dot shirt and jean pants I planed to wear and stuffed myself into them. I knew it was Tuesday, the day I have yoga class, so I was sure to pack some exercise clothes in my back pack.
I woke up at seven when my cell phone alarm clock went off. At first I thought it was six thirty because I have the alarm set for both times. But after looking at my wrist watch I saw that it was seven. Feeling sleepy, and knowing I didn’t have Spanish homework to study, I decided to set the alarm for seven thirty and wake up then. When I had set the alarm my head feel to the pillow hard, and fast asleep. It felt like seconds before the alarm was already going off again. I dosed off once more, convincing myself that it was still too early.
I woke up this morning at 8 o’clock. I knew it was Monday, the day I am in charge of watching the anthropology media computer lab, so I was sure to grab my brown vintage video camera bag with my hard drive and all the footage that I have shot for my film project.
After a difficult start this morning; waking up, falling back asleep, waking up, and falling asleep again. When the clock struck 8 I decided to jump out of bed and start my day. Immediately I thought of the pumpkin flax seed granola I had bought from Berkeley Bowl over the weekend. Even though I was quite rushed, I was sure to pour myself a bowl. Right when the soy milk hit the granola, my roommate was leaving to drive to school and asked me if I wanted a ride. I said sure. I took my unfinished breakfast with me. The yoga pants were in my back pack and my video camera at my side, in my bulky camera case. I sat down into the car, reached for the seat belt and realized that it wasn’t Monday. I didn’t need the video camera. I told my roommate that I had thought it was Monday and that I didn’t need to bring my camera so I didn’t need a ride.
I woke up this morning confused. I thought it was Monday, and I was sure it was Tuesday. It was Tuesday. Monday was a holiday and it was early and I was confused. I didn’t get things straight till thirty minutes after I woke up and I was already in my roommate’s car ready to go to school. I had packed with my things for the day, my camera case which I only needed on Mondays to do work in the computer lab. I didn’t want to trouble my roommate into waiting for me while I ran up into the house and drop off the camera that I thought that I needed. She was already late for work and I know it would make her annoyed to wait for me, so I told her I only wanted the ride with her because the camera I thought I needed was big and cumbersome, and that now that I didn’t need the camera, I could take the bus.
This morning was the morning after a holiday, so naturally, when I woke up early, groggy and in a hurry, I was not sure if it was Monday or Tuesday. I thought that it was both days. I packed everything I would need to complete a Monday, while also preparing for a Tuesday. It was both days at once. Both mornings. I finally decided on a day, one that happened to coincide with the official calendar: Tuesday, February 21, 2006.
This Tuesday morning a lie was told. But it wasn’t a lie. It was as
much of a truth as it was a lie. It was both true and untrue at the
same time, both Monday and Tuesday. It only matters from which
calendar you look from, or from which fingers have typed the letters
you see from, or from which person you hear from.
This Monday morning I went to Café Strata to read. I was sitting in the sun, drinking a latte, immersed in a story about discovering ones ancestral folk as a means into discovering ones self, when a man to my right called my name. “Jenn,” he said. I turned my head and looked at the man. He was a balding, tweed jacket wearing, stocky man that I had never seen before. Right away he apologized and said, “Oh… I’m sorry, you aren’t Jenn.” He walked off and out of frame. I huffed up my shoulders and my breastbone as I mumbled under my breath, “But I am Jenn.”
Perhaps if it was Tuesday he would have recognized me.
I woke up this morning, looked at my wrist watch and saw that it was 8 o’clock. I immediately jumped up, and out of bed. Found the polka dot shirt and jean pants I planed to wear and stuffed myself into them. I knew it was Tuesday, the day I have yoga class, so I was sure to pack some exercise clothes in my back pack.
I woke up at seven when my cell phone alarm clock went off. At first I thought it was six thirty because I have the alarm set for both times. But after looking at my wrist watch I saw that it was seven. Feeling sleepy, and knowing I didn’t have Spanish homework to study, I decided to set the alarm for seven thirty and wake up then. When I had set the alarm my head feel to the pillow hard, and fast asleep. It felt like seconds before the alarm was already going off again. I dosed off once more, convincing myself that it was still too early.
I woke up this morning at 8 o’clock. I knew it was Monday, the day I am in charge of watching the anthropology media computer lab, so I was sure to grab my brown vintage video camera bag with my hard drive and all the footage that I have shot for my film project.
After a difficult start this morning; waking up, falling back asleep, waking up, and falling asleep again. When the clock struck 8 I decided to jump out of bed and start my day. Immediately I thought of the pumpkin flax seed granola I had bought from Berkeley Bowl over the weekend. Even though I was quite rushed, I was sure to pour myself a bowl. Right when the soy milk hit the granola, my roommate was leaving to drive to school and asked me if I wanted a ride. I said sure. I took my unfinished breakfast with me. The yoga pants were in my back pack and my video camera at my side, in my bulky camera case. I sat down into the car, reached for the seat belt and realized that it wasn’t Monday. I didn’t need the video camera. I told my roommate that I had thought it was Monday and that I didn’t need to bring my camera so I didn’t need a ride.
I woke up this morning confused. I thought it was Monday, and I was sure it was Tuesday. It was Tuesday. Monday was a holiday and it was early and I was confused. I didn’t get things straight till thirty minutes after I woke up and I was already in my roommate’s car ready to go to school. I had packed with my things for the day, my camera case which I only needed on Mondays to do work in the computer lab. I didn’t want to trouble my roommate into waiting for me while I ran up into the house and drop off the camera that I thought that I needed. She was already late for work and I know it would make her annoyed to wait for me, so I told her I only wanted the ride with her because the camera I thought I needed was big and cumbersome, and that now that I didn’t need the camera, I could take the bus.
This morning was the morning after a holiday, so naturally, when I woke up early, groggy and in a hurry, I was not sure if it was Monday or Tuesday. I thought that it was both days. I packed everything I would need to complete a Monday, while also preparing for a Tuesday. It was both days at once. Both mornings. I finally decided on a day, one that happened to coincide with the official calendar: Tuesday, February 21, 2006.
This Tuesday morning a lie was told. But it wasn’t a lie. It was as
much of a truth as it was a lie. It was both true and untrue at the
same time, both Monday and Tuesday. It only matters from which
calendar you look from, or from which fingers have typed the letters
you see from, or from which person you hear from.
This Monday morning I went to Café Strata to read. I was sitting in the sun, drinking a latte, immersed in a story about discovering ones ancestral folk as a means into discovering ones self, when a man to my right called my name. “Jenn,” he said. I turned my head and looked at the man. He was a balding, tweed jacket wearing, stocky man that I had never seen before. Right away he apologized and said, “Oh… I’m sorry, you aren’t Jenn.” He walked off and out of frame. I huffed up my shoulders and my breastbone as I mumbled under my breath, “But I am Jenn.”
Perhaps if it was Tuesday he would have recognized me.