story from an unwritten book
She was sitting in the kitchen once again in the middle of the night. Reading her emails and feeling overwhelmed, feeling like a total failure.
Somehow it all got really out of control and when she tried to remember when and how she got here — her mind went blank. She could do better, she knew better so how did she end up here, and what was she gonna do with it about it?
Somehow life has passed her by so quickly without noticing. She knew she had to change something but the changes are so scary what if it all makes everything worse… or is it even possible to get any worse than it already is?
She closed her laptop to put on some water for coffee. Yes, she knew it was the middle of the night, but with this roller coaster of thoughts she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep and she would have to wake up in three hours anyway to go to work so there is no point in trying. So coffee it is. Maybe some cookies or candy? Or maybe prep a lunch for work?
Cooking and baking were always her happy place and the time when she could release her thoughts so sort of speak. It helped to calm her down and sometimes clear her mind to see the solution or get the idea – So what can we cook?
Nights have always been her favorite times. Silent and peaceful because most of the world is asleep and the ones that aren’t -are like her. Enjoying the silence. Except on weekends, then everybody is up and even louder with the strong belief that everybody enjoys *their* music or conversations. Idiots drinking and screaming.
A cup of freshly brewed coffee — does anything taste and smell better? With coffee in one hand, she set up the mixer tossed in some eggs, oil, flour, and stuff, and turned it on. It’s kind of hypnotic to look into a mixing bowl and how all these different ingredients blend into one smooth mass. Another sip and then cover it up with flour and a towel for a while.
She sat down and opened her laptop again to resume responding to all inquiries. Tomorrow (or today?) is a really busy day running around and not have much time to sit behind a computer. Just 3 more arrangements and everything should be set.
Send.
So what does the dough look like? A few additional beats and one more resting session while she prepped the table and mixed cinnamon and sugar and it worked — everything went blank while she continued in autopilot mode.
Warm cinnamon bun and fresh coffee — a piece of heaven! Suddenly she hears an annoying alarm beeping — damn, it’s time to go to work already.
Just one more, before she steps out into the world already missing being here.
This is a fictional story inspired by modern world struggles, where there are high expectations for everyone regardless of themselves. She is everyone and no one – me, you, your neighbor, or bitchy boss. The label “Stories from the unwritten book” might get new additions and may not. These are my first attempt of writing down some stories running through my mind – the main goal is to give them an outlet and maybe one day they turn out to be something more. The story might continue.
