Why Is Supa Sister Chronically Late For Work?

So Supa Sister decided to do an in-depth expose on what her problem was and why she couldn't ever seem get to work on time. The following is an itemized, blow-by-blow account of a garden variety weekday morning in the World of Supa Sister:

Daily Objective: Arrive at work by 8 am


6:05 am: Radio alarm goes off. Hit snooze

6:14 am: Radio alarm goes off. Hit snooze

6:23 am: Radio alarm goes off. Hit snooze

6:32 am: Radio alarm goes off. Half listen to whoever’s on NPR while dozing back to sleep.

6:42 am: Open eyes. Sit up. Look around. Push Pooch off pillow.

6:43 am: Turn off radio. Turn on TV. Flip to CNN to see if the other side of the world has exploded.

6:45 am: If other side of world is still intact, switch from CNN to Local News. Get out of bed. Do some half-ass stretching. Walk into living room, turn on heater. Stand over heater.

6:48 am: Take nice, luxurious, steaming shower. The kind one might take on the weekend, when one has all the time in the world. Exact opposite kind one should take when one is chronically late for work. Eventually exit shower. Pre-moisturize with baby oil. Wrap towel around self. Wash hands. Put on contact lenses.

7:03 am: Suddenly remember last night’s dream. Promise self to go write it down in journal, once self dries off and slathers down with mango scented shea butter.

7:04 am: Dry off and apply delicious amounts of mango shea butter. Inadvertently rub eye. Lose left contact lens.

7:04:30 am: Pooch demands to go outside and take a dump. Turn off house alarm, release Pooch into backyard. Crawl back to bathroom on all fours, cursing and looking for defunct left contact lens. Eventually give up. Insert new lens. Make mental note to order more disposables.

7:10 am: Go back into room. Stand inside closet. Ponder appropriate outfit selection.

7:11 am: Struggle to remember details of dream which are now magically evaporating.

7:12 am: Try on tentative outfit. Model in full length mirror from every conceivable angle.

7:15 am: Ditch Outfit #1. Put on favorite silk floral printed robe. Stretch across bed. Channel surf. Become engrossed in an unseen episode of “Tracey Takes On…” That bitch is funny.

7:20 am: Pooch scratches on French door, indicating Pooch has finished morning shit session, wants to come back inside, and wishes to be fed. Post haste.

7:22 am: Feed Pooch. Talk to Pooch. Rub Pooch's fat belly. Whine to Pooch that one wishes one had Pooch’s pampered life, wherein someone would feed me and see to all my earthly needs while I pass time relaxing and napping all day on a designer bed while watching Animal Planet.

7:25 am: Ponder next outfit selection. Re-enter bathroom Complete all 758 steps to Dermalogica skin care regimen. Brush teeth. Scrape tongue. Floss. Twice. Study skin surface under magnifying mirror. Make funny faces in mirror. Ramble through make-up drawer. Run across outdated Life & Style magazine. Sit on edge of tub and casually flip through magazine. Enter kitchen, pour self a glass of Tropicana OJ with lots of ice. Drink. Re-enter bathroom. Style hair into top knot.

7:50 am: Re-enter closet. Select and model Outfit #2. Not feeling Outfit #2. Discard Outfit #2.

7:52 am: Complain to self that it’s unfair how self can shop endlessly and still have nothing to wear. Take elements from Outfit #1 and #2, and create Outfit #3.

7:57 am: Select matching jewelry, shoes, purse, scarf, coat, other miscellaneous necessary accessories.

8:00 am: Spritz on selected fragrance of the day. Suddenly decide don’t want hair in top knot. Meticulously pick and primp in mirror until large, funky lion mane style/look is achieved.

8:06 am: Scramble around to locate keys, laptop, Palm Pilot, cellie, reading material, alternate flat shoes for when heels become unbearable, snacks, purse, carry-all bag, shitload of unpaid bills to pay balances while online at work, etc.

8:08 am: Interrupt search to go pee.

Somewhere between 8:10 and 8:25 am: Drive to work. Hope for some major traffic calamity within a 10 mile radius of jobsite to use for sufficient excuse. Practice backup excuse in rear view mirror while applying eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. Park on second level, away from Manager’s office window. Take stairwell, sneak into office like a felon.

8: 45 am: At desk, pretend to check the day's assignments when actually firing up laptop in order to make first blog entry of the day. Front like I’ve been here since 8:00. Take an herbal tea break at 9 am.


Disclaimer: This schedule is only accurate when Supa Sister has only herself to worry about. Throw the Ruff Ryders into the morning mix, and you can forgetaboutit.