Dark and Stormy Morning...with Silver Lining (Illustration by Melissa Jefferson)
I’m not a writer but a mom, wife, hard worker, neighbor, obligatory volunteer, legal alien, cautious optimist, idealistic pragmatist (I’m sure there’s therapy for that), Target shopper, and latte aficionado (which, by corporate design, pairs up nicely). I’m also balancing family time and a career, while paying the mortgage on time.
Phew! With that off my chest, I’m free to go all out and write my debut novella—sans sense and sensibility. So proceed with caution and never mind the heap of adjectives I’ve succumbed to; it’s liberating. You should try it.
Synopsis: An overlooked appointment reminder causes a working mommy’s morning to change dramatically before her coffee gets cold. A swift strategy—sans attitude—adjustment holds unexpected turns and surprises. Will she make it out the door on time, and will her shoes actually match?
Pre-Epiphany: It was a typical morning in my house. I got ready for work, woke the kids, and lollygagged for a bit, then frantically barked orders at everyone after receiving an early office-meeting reminder via my phone. Spasms ensued in which some coffee was spilled, but we eventually headed out the door without much drama. Our shoes matched, the superhero capes were flying, and we were off to our respective, constructive universes: building Lego towers, compound sentences, and technical proposals. We all returned at the end of the day, shared hugs, rinsed, and repeated the next day.
Post Epiphany (proceed with caution): It was a gloomy and frosty day in Berks County, with feathery snow spackling the picturesque Monocacy Hill’s pristine morning glow, bathing the neighborhood in a curious radiance. A flock of Canadian geese flew hastily overhead, signaling the season’s end like the passing of guards at Buckingham Palace. My heart was aglow amidst the formidable clouds that signaled trouble as dense as my brain on that dull winter’s day. I flounced upstairs swiftly, oblivious to the clock, with time hastily slipping away in perfect harmony with the coffee dripping into the thermos down below in the family’s sanctuary the kitchen.
My kids begrudgingly navigated the stairwell that led to their future, one dreamy step at a time. The percolator downstairs lazily signaled the end of the brewing cycle and the dawn of a new era, one in which we’d have to eat toast and brush our teeth quickly and in harmony with the ever-flowing tide of time to catch the school bus.
I was standing in my kitchen and taking in the dramatically bold aroma of PB&J sandwiches when my cell alarm urgently rang in the distance. Wedged deep into the darkest corner of my purse, I pensively unearthed it while still holding on to the delightful bouquet of Folgers and Jiffy.
The horror! I had stupidly forgotten an early morning meeting that was greatly significant and began hectically spinning like a water funnel in the Schuylkill River.
I perilously sprinted back into the kitchen and surveyed the languid scene that had unfolded, one where my children were eating toast while lazily gazing at the TV screen. I strenuously barked at them and turned off the plasma connection to the outside world to signal once more a changing of guards. A mad scramble ensued where I briefly misplaced my figurative supermom cape and nearly forgot to securely pack the PB&J in the colorfully illustrated lunch box. Time had sneakily slipped away.
As the morning rush hurriedly came to a vigorous close, I took stock once more of what began as a dark and stormy morning. Then I took off on another adventure framed by overlooked Jiffy on my sleeve. Onward I went, not looking back once more. A hero’s welcome awaited in vain, I returned home non the more celebrated after a day at the office to repeat the drama the next day.
