A cool breeze danced over the tops of my toes as I awoke. One foot outside of the comforter, the other one carefully tucked under the bed sheet, as warm as can be. I roll over and glance at my alarm clock that read 10:37. Oh the sweet joy of sleeping in on the weekend, but it’s not the weekend…
“I’M LATE FOR SCHOOL,” I howl as I fall out of bed, taking the most direct route to the floor.
No time for a shower. This is the job for dry shampoo and baby wipes. Tuesday mornings, are almost as bad as Mondays. I throw on a t-shirt from my closet and a dirty pair of jeans.  My hair is slopped up into a bun, and heavy amounts of perfume is applied to the stinky jeans. I nearly take another tumble to the floor when my cat, Beans, is laying right on the floor where I am about to step. When your parents are anchors for the local news station, they are off at 5:00am so there is no getting a ride to school. I grab my backpack and keys as I bolt out the front door, nearly forgetting to lock up.
I jump in my car throwing my bag into the passenger seat. It’s an old 1969 Volkswagen van. It used to be blue, but 46 years has not been kind to her. I turn the key. Nothing. I try again. Nothing. “Third times the charm,” I mumble and she finally starts. Luckily in between home and school there is a McDonalds. I quickly shoot through the drive-through (miraculously my wallet and phone were in my bag from yesterday) and end up with an iced coffee and a McMuffin.
Eating and driving my not be the safest thing to do, but when you risk your life every day being a teen spy for the CIA, you tend to live a little on the wild side.