Wherein C.F.Barrón does his thing...

Running Errands Vol. V

Author's Note: Please do not actively worry about me. I'm ok. Honestly. I have systems in place should I ever not be. If you want to check in with me, that's all fair and good, but don't press and don't stress. That said, the following isn't an everyday thing, as previous volumes of running errands can attest, but it's not unheard of for me. Not all art is pretty, I'm afraid. I wake up, and the first thought in my head is that it's 8 o'clock. I know this to be true because around this time of year, the sun shines directly on my face at the exact same time every morning and it's usually this blinding "hello" that sires me away from dreamland and back into the day to day.

Don't bother. Stay in bed. This day will be just as bad as any of the others, and nothing you do will change the fact that you're nothing but a-

There's a small burst of cold air as I fling the blanket off of me and sharply sit up. I stretch. Twist. Yawn. And sigh.  I stand up and lumber to the dresser where my phone is charging. It's blinking the little white light to alert me that I either have a text message or an e-mail. I slide the unlock pattern across its surface and discover a new message from Credit Karma in my mailbox.

Oh, c'mon. Did you honestly think anyone would actually want to talk to you? Fifth born, first fuck up?  You are unnecessary, unwanted, and unlo-

I toss my phone onto the bed, pick out my shirt, find my jeans, make a pair of socks, and hop onto the scale. 314.

Still can't get past that number, can you? Yet another dragon you can't slay. Let's see, first it was making friends your age, then it was raising your GPA, then it was earning respect at the home, making it on your own, getting published, passing stats, finishing school... No matter how hard you try you're not good en-

The sharp hiss of the showerhead announces a small cloud of steam. The water feels good, but I don't indulge in a long shower, I have a lot I want to get done. It's nearly eight thirty by the time I'm dressed, groomed, and ready to go.  'I can do this', I tell myself.

Why do you insist on lying to yourself? Isn't that step one of pursuing inner peace? Accept who you are? Accept the fact that you bring nothing to the table. Accept that it's only out of a twisted sense of obligation that anyone even tolerates y-

The ball bearing finally starts to rattle as I shake up the can of spray on primer. I do an undercoat of black, and aim the tan at the miniature at a thirty-degree angle and spray it all around. This makes for easier highlights.

I love how much time you waste doing this. Who exactly are you trying to impress?! They're miniatures. It's not like anyone cares how well you paint them.Not unless you're world class, which is something you will nev-

The kitchen is a verifiable disaster zone by the time I'm done cooking her dinner. I'm unsure how long I'll be out today, and sometimes she comes home early. This way she'll have something to eat when she gets here. I'll have to clean up at some point tonight because the clock is telling me it's time to go. Grabbing my keys and my jacket, I step outside into the crisp morning air and quickly make my way to my car. I turn Pandora on and switch it to the Amor Eterno station because I need something familiar right now.

You realize how ridiculous it is that you turn to this music for comfort right? You can barely call yourself a son of that culture. Yet one more thing you have failed at. If you were to wrap this car around a pole, they would all be bett-

The music starts, I turn it up and head into heavy morning traffic.  My day begins to blur by...

"Thanks for helping me out bud, I appreciate that I can count on you for shit like that." There's no way they actually like you.

"Hey, I got you something. These snacks helped my uncle lose weight, and I know you've been working on that so I figured you could try 'em." Your weight is an issue for other people too.

"Thanks!" Obligatory.

"You're the best." Sarcastic.

"I thought of you." You're annoying.

"You did a great job on that." Insincere.

"You look a little glum." Your depression is showing.

"You have a big, beautiful, heart and I can't wait to buy your book." Not true.

"You doing okay?" Your weakness is inconvenient enough for people to ask about it..

I make it home. She's getting ready for bed. We chat. I decompress, and even though I know the answer is a resounding yes, I have to ask... you'd miss me, right?