Some weekends are destined to be terrible. This weekend happened to be one of those times. Leaving my apartment on Friday afternoon always unsettles me. I always wonder if I am leaving a curling iron plugged in, a light on or something along those lines. Usually this proves to be just my OCD taking over, but this weekend as I turned back into my complex for the second time I knew that something was going to be seriously wrong with my weekend. Some call this a premonition, others call it intuition, whatever it was, it turned out to be extremely accurate.
Two minutes after leaving my condo, I found myself in an extremely undesirable place, on McFarland Boulevard in five o’clock traffic. Normally, this thought would stress me out, but I decided to just sit back and relax on my trip back to Birmingham. Fifty minutes later, I was exactly the opposite. A sudden rain storm had started ten minutes after I set out on my trip home. I have never been a fan of driving in the rain, but this time was especially bad. With traffic at a stand still and the rain pelting my windshield, I thought that I would never reach home.
After an hour of sitting on the highway, I finally reached the interstate. Extremely frustrated by what had just occurred, I thought that once I was on the interstate I would be home free. Wrong again. The usual free flowing traffic was going twenty miles an hour and standing on their breaks every other second. This made the fifty mile interstate journey take close to two hours. After I finally arrived at home, I was exhausted and extremely ready to crawl into my bed and sleep for the rest of the weekend. I ignored those feelings and continued with my plans for the weekend. This proved to be an even bigger mistake than getting on McFarland at five o’clock on a Friday afternoon.
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Saturdays during football season are always a day of rest for me. I love to curl up on the sofa and sleep all day while my family and boyfriend watch all of the games. As I sat on the sofa, my family was more interested in me and my college life than watching the game. When I would finally go to sleep, a question from my mom or dad would wake me. Around four o’clock, I finally dragged myself off of the suede sofa and forced myself to get ready. After a steaming hot shower, I felt a little better but still very tired. Later that night, while I was watching the Auburn football game, I drifted off again, only to be woken by my boyfriend’s mom. She was asking the exact same questions that my own family had asked earlier that day. By midnight, I was exhausted and so full from eating too much all day. I tried to go to sleep right when I arrived at home, but of course, my sister had friends over that made sleeping not an option. I finally poured myself into bed around three a.m., only to be woken up five hours later by the sound of my alarm. Needless to say, I am starting yet another week just as exhausted as I was on Friday, when I started out on my long journey home.
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