Too Much Clutter for One Day

"Yonnie! Get up! Your breakfast is getting cold." Wait what? I'm not at...oh. One of those things. Dreams. Somehow I always find my mom in my dreams. She fixes breakfast, or helps me stretch, or... I've got to stretch. I open my eyes and look around my room. It's a messy four walls of farewell posters from my friends back home and my clothes are in heaps on the floor. "I've got to clean this,"I murmur, pulling the nearest T-shirt up over my head. I walk over to my mat and stretch like a freshly-awakened cat. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale...Frown. I've got work today.

I walk over to my open window and stick my head out, still talking to myself. "Alright Yonnie, there is a crowd of people outside. You're going to walk in the opposite direction. Clutter is the new black and you do NOT like trends." I close my window and I'm a little annoyed when my first vision of the day invades my focus.

A black girl with an intricate amount of gel in her hair is fighting angrily with a bus driver. She's cursing, screaming, and rolling her eyes. Then she punches him, but the aura around her doesn't tell me she's angry, it tells me she's full of remorse. Her actions get her arrested and when she ducks into the police car, I can see her lips moving. How did my life come to this?


When I'm done contemplating a stranger's arrest, I slip on some sweatpants and fly on my magic carpet to Alfonso's. Alright, so I walk, but I close my eyes and imagine. I can get to Alfonso's in 80 steps once I'm outside. 40.41.42.43.44.

BEEP! BEEP! When I look up, there are rows of cars stacked on top of each other, not literally. In one car, an old woman with curly white hair rolls her neck from side to side, singing the words to a song I can't really catch. The honking horns stop and then I hear it:


I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want,
So tell me what you want, what you really really want,
I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna really 
really really wanna zigazig ha. 

I really have to fight to contain my laughter and I bet I even look ridiculous doing it, but I turn to face the abandoned building beside me and laugh hysterically. My eyes burn and my ribs are sore, but I'm laughing until I regain enough composure to continue walking to work. That song is all over the place. Lovers, best friends, and slamming your body all around. 

You know what I want? What I really, really want? A goddamn raise.

At Alfonso's, there are cages of animals, cubbies of animals, shelves of animals, hell, there are boxes of animals. There's so much...clutter. My job is to welcome the people who come in and help them pick a pet. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. I'm breathing softly because I know where I stand with customers; I hate them. Yes, I know hate is a strong word, blah blah blah, but let's be honest. Customers are annoying.

"Yonnie! How are you my little canoli? You smell like my mother's favorite flowers. She had a thing for flowers you know? What you Americans say? Green fingers?" Alfonso smirks with his arms wide open for a hug. Knowingly, he makes mistakes just so I'll correct him. His little canoli.

"Green thumb, 'Fonso." I roll my eyes and hug him. He squeezes my lower back a little too tight so I let out an awkward chuckle and push away. When my eyes graze over him, he's a little too happy and he adjusts the creases in his pants to hide it. "You know, 'Fonso, I've been working here a while and I..."

"Hold that thought Yonnie. I've got to make a phone call!" He dashes back to his office and shuts the door. Cheap old man...