For the first time since that fateful Christmas about twenty-some years ago, my ever-faithful Scooby-Doo alarm clock failed me. It didn't go off at 5:30 am. In fact, it didn't go off at all. So when I woke it was to see Scooby cheerily telling me that I had exactly twenty minutes to get my ass out of bed, get said-ass ready for work, and then get to said-work.

I let out a strangled cry that sounded something like "glaghk!" And faster than you could say "It's spring!" I was flying out of bed at the speed of light.

Er...

Sort of.

There were — of course — a few... uh... hindrances. Among them being that my legs had gotten tangled up in the bed clothes. The worst being the fact that that had caused me to swing at said-speed face-first into my nice, hard, wooden floor. Of course, at the moment I wasn't really too keen on emphasizing the 'nice' part.

It didn't take long for my head to start screaming at me about what a lazy ass I was, and there was also my nose.

Holy smurf cakes, but that smurfing hurt!

I leaped/staggered to my feet and squinted at the two doors leading to the hallway. I think I stood up too fast, because the world suddenly dropped from under my feet; as if it had decided I was unfit to be standing on a thing as sacred as itself.

I think most folks call that sensation "dizziness." As if my sore face wasn't bad enough.

I managed to remain on my feet, despite the efforts of unknown — or maybe not-so unknown — forces. It was about that time that the two bedroom doors stopped jumping around like a couple of Russian dancers and slid back into one.

Good.

I only need one bedroom door, thank you very much! I flew out said-door at a lopsided sprint, heading for my bathroom.

I suppose you can imagine my dismay when I tripped over something small, fuzzy, and warm. I crashed to the floor in an exceedingly ungraceful manner, letting out an undignified shriek as I did so. Though my shout was nothing compared to my cat's. Princess yowled at me with indignant fury, her ears flat against her skull and her fur sticking up along her arched back, and her tail a funny-looking bush.

She hissed her discomfort, "How dare you interrupt my nap!" I glared at her, trying not to wince as I rubbed at a new bruise on my shoulder. "Well, excuse me, Princess!" I huffed back at her, my mind treating itself to a replay of a number of times when Link had said those same words to Zelda.

I sprung to my feet as I suddenly remembered how little time I had. Cursing (again), I ignored Princess and ran into the bathroom. I didn't waste any time. I brushed my hair; didn't bother with my teeth (they looked presentable enough); and then began pulling my hair back into a ponytail. I didn't stay in the bathroom to finish that final task. Instead I decided to accomplish it on y way back to my room. I was still running so I —

Well, I — er... That is...

I tripped.

Again.

And again, it was because of my stupid cat. This time however, my hands were preoccupied with my hair, so when I fell, I landed directly on my elbows. Or, more accurately, on my funny bones. Honestly though, I found it about as amusing as having my gums scraped with a cheese grater.

Which is to say, nat at all funny.

I ignored Princess's angry yowling and, with a frustrated screech, leaped to my feet and yanked the tie out of my hair.

It had to be redone anyway.

I ran into my room and changed in a frantic hurricane of flying clothes and other accessories. All the while stealing glances at my perfidizing Scooby-Doo clock.

Ten minutes.

I let out a sound that was about as dignified as a mouse with no tail, and quickly ran out of my room. Thankfully, Princess had decided to find somewhere else to congregate. So I didn't trip over her.

Again.

I ran to the kitchen and snatched up a few supplementary bits and pieces, and crammed them into a small bag. Which I in turn crammed into my purse. It was then that I made a mad-dash for the front door.

I turned the knob and ran into the door.

Yes, you heard right. I ran into the door. It was locked, but by the time my brain had finally registered this seemingly mundane fact, I was already on the floor clutching a bloody nose and cursing to an extent that would make even the roughest sailor blink.

I ran back to my room, grabbed a clean blouse, and then ran to the bathroom. I cleaned up and changed and then stuffed a tissue of each nostril. It made me look positively ridiculous, but beggars can't be choosers. I then ran back to the front door, snatched my purse up off the floor, and dashed outside.

And before you ask: yes.

I did unlock the door first.

I hopped into my car and started rummaging frantically through my purse in what turned out to be a futile search for my keys.

Then I remembered.

I'd left them on the kitchen counter last night.

Cursing for the something-th time in one morning, I tossed my purse onto the passenger seat and sprinted back inside. I snagged the keys off the counter, and — with a triumphant shout — ran back out to my car.

Breathing like I'd just run a marathon, I got in my car and stuck the key into the ignition. When I turned it however, the engine only sputtered. "You have got to be kidding me!" I screeched as I continued to try to start my traitorous car. I glanced at my watch. I had less than two minutes left. I screamed a few more choice words as I tried again and again to start my fucking car.

Finally, the engine coughed to life. I didn't waste any time marveling or sighing in relief. I was late. Very, very late. Instead, I expressed it by turning around and starting to pull out.

"Starting to" being the operative phrase.

When I turned around I came face to face with a young man instead of the back seat and rear window. I slammed on the brakes.

The young man looked like your average stereotype of a street ruffian. Greasy black hair slicked back into a ponytail, black leather jacket and gloves, and tattered jeans and shirt. He had what looked like some kind of tool belt open on his lap. I recognized some of the items as lock-picks, pliers, and wire cutters. Everything else though, I couldn't say.

"Thanks for starting the car," he said in a low rough voice. "Now get out."

A car thief. I had a car thief in my car.

I stared blankly at him before turning a pleading look skyward. "Oh, come on," I whined. "Is being on time too much to ask!? Are you trying to torture me this morning?"

Vaguely, I was aware of the thief telling me to get out of the car again.

I talked over him. "I'm sorry, okay?" I continued, "I'll go to church next Sunday! I'll tithe! I'll become a missionary! I'll do anything! Just let me get to my goddamn job this morning! Please! I'll get on my knees and beg if I have to!" I must have looked downright insane. Sitting there with two bloody tissues up my nose and praying to God to get to work on time. Which I knew wasn't going to happen. I should've clocked in one minute ago.

The car thief ordered me to get out of the car again, and I noticed that he now had a gun in his hand. Where he'd hidden it, I wasn't sure I wanted to know. I glared disdainfully at the gun before shifting my furious expression to him. I saw uncertainty flicker across his grimy face.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" I snapped. He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again when I narrowed my eyes at him. "Do you," I began, seething with anger and frustration, "have any idea what I've been through this morning?" I didn't wait for an answer. "I have smashed my face into the floor three times; twice because of my stupid cat. I have bashed my nose into my front door," I pointed to the bloody tissues to emphasize, "I've run back and forth between my house and car three times. If I'm lucky, my boss won't fire me on sight! He'll just make me work ten times as hard for forty hours overtime. So," I added, leaning into the car thief's face and fixing him with a deadly glare.

He blinked and leaned away from me, his gun long forgotten.

"Get. The. Fucking. Hell. Out. Of. My. Car."

He blinked again, muttered something about crazy ladies and bloody noses, gathered his stuff, and hopped out of the car. I didn't pay him any more mind.

I pulled out and worked my way through morning traffic. It took me twenty minutes to get to work, but I made it.

When I punched in I noticed everyone staring at me. I composed myself and made my way towards my desk in as dignified a manner as I could muster. I realized I still had tissues up my nose and quickly pulled them out and threw them away.

No sooner had I done that when I heard my boss, Mr. Dumas, bellow from the door of his office. "Keasey!"

I flinched.

Gathering my courage, I tip-toed as inconspicuously as I could into his office. Mr. Dumas was seated behind his desk with his hands folded ominously over the smooth wooden surface. "Ms. Keasey," he began, "you are almost half an hour late. Explain yourself."

My thoughts were spinning through my head so fast it actually made me feel dizzy. Before I could even begin to think, I started talking. I knew he liked stories, so I fed him the most ridiculous fish story ever invented.

I told him about how aliens abducted my faithful Scooby-Doo alarm clock, and how an evil car thief attacked my home. I talked about my valiant efforts to save my cat from the evil car thief, and how I then bullied him into helping me save my Scooby-Doo clock from the aliens.

When I finished, I held my breath and fidgeted nervously. I was prepared for the worst.

Yet, to my complete and utter shock, he merely laughed. "That's the most idiotic excuse I've ever heard!"

I tried to smile, but I was too nervous. I chuckled. "Heh heh, yeah..."

"Let me guess: your alarm didn't go off."

I nodded meekly.

"Two hours overtime, and don't let it happen again." And with that, he dismissed me.

I walked back to my desk in a daze, but was stopped by my best friend. "Well?"

"Oh," I said indifferently, "overtime."

"What!?" She demanded, staring at me incredulously. Then she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What did you say?" She asked warily.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Right. My alarm didn't go off."

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I came across this one the other day and thought, "Holy shit! I thought I lost this! "

I wrote it almost a year ago for Writer's Group. I can't even begin to tell you how much fun I had writing it.☻Especially when they asked me to read it out loud. It was a blast. ☻ 

Till next time!

PS: You fellow Zelda fans out there will understand the video I included perfectly. ☻ (Unless you've only ever played the games, in which case, never mind.)