Melodramatis personae

Mom and Dad are out for the day.

I order in breakfast from a nearby diner. I plan to finish making lunch by noon and then sit back and write the short story.

Boy was I wrong.

My brother decides to turn into a sloth and the delivery guys from the grocery store seem to have ignored my calls, making me tread all the way up there in the afternoon for a huge pile of groceries for a fancy dish my brother wanted to have.

At that moment, I wanted to curse all the men in the world for being useless creatures and if stem cell technology evolved enough for me to not need a man to make children, I’d ditch the whole lot.

Speaking of which, he texts his irritating good morning when I’m elbow deep in dicing vegetables. I told him I’m busy and mute notifications so that I don’t lose my mind in frustration.

I push my way through, slaving over the gravy and bread. We finally have lunch at three in the afternoon. Is there a term for late lunch, I wonder.

Turns out it tasted great, so that’s the end of that.

My writing will have to wait for Monday, because my parents are here.

He texts me as I’m writing this, but my internet speed is so bad even texts aren’t getting sent. Thank God for crappy connection.

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