"How many eggs do you want?" I asked Rosa, pan in hand, as butter melted.
"Two," she replied.
"Now dammit," I said as I laughed nervously. "You have to have multiples like three or six."
"God, you are so anal," Rosa said, rolling her eyes. You should know me better, was my thought.
Out the door we went. I had to walk back and check it three times to make sure it was locked. My computer! my mind screamed, fearful of all the foot traffic on this street.
"It's locked!" Rosa exclaimed, standing at my car and rolling her eyes once again.
Dropped Rosa off at her house. Rendezvoused with my two-week injection for my schizophrenia. A cold blast of air greeted me as I stepped into the doctor's office causing goose bumps. Signed in. Short's pulled down to the side. Cold, steel needle pricking the skin of my cherub bum. Nurse gossip. "Work sucks here." "Works sucks, period, unless you like what you do," was my reply.
Snarling traffic. Police cruiser behind me. Paranoia. Is my tag current? Is my license in my wallet? What if I have a warrant out for my arrest? I turn into the driveway exhausted mentally as I sigh with relief. And my day has just begun.