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I rummage through my dresser drawer, full of bottoms that are all the same color: black. In theory it’s a good idea to keep similar things in the same drawer, but not when I want to locate one particular tiny pair of leggings andeverythinggets yanked out and unfolded in my search to do so. Again, it’s future Reya’s problem.

I do this a lot, so future Reya tends to not like me very much.

I throw a long t-shirt over them, a faded yellow with some band’s logo that I haven’t listened to since middle school. It’s cute enough, and it hides the fact that I’m not exactly supposed to be wearing leggings at work. My girls and I have a mutual understanding, I don’t say a word to them about their own dress code deviations, and all’s fair. I can’t be expected to survive a long day like today without an elastic waistband. It’s far too much to ask of a person.

On a good day, I love to play around with my makeup. As a rule, I won’t be caught in public without winged eyeliner, and I prefer to make it bold. I’ve got every color of the rainbow and more in my collection.

If I wasn’t about to stop at a drive-through on my way to work to grab a breakfast burrito, I’d do a smokey eye look with yellow or pink liner. Some days I can’t decide if I want to match my hair or my clothes, but Iwillalways be matching. The lack of time on my end allows me to put an unhealthy amount of blush on my cheeks and nose– actually, it’s going all over my eyelids too. It kind of makes me feel like a fairy. I add black eyeliner, black mascara, and I’m left with just enough time to put on some deodorant and a spritz of my favorite perfume.

I have Vans the same shade as my shirt that I pull on over no-show socks. A glimpse past my curtain again tells me that there is no longer anyone out there, and it’s started to rain.

Perfect.

I just hope the few seconds it takes to find my coat aren’t going to make me late for work, because that drive-through is always packed this time of day, and I’m not going to survive my shift if I don’t sit through it.

4

Amoving truck is blocking my car. Again.

Except this time, I have a dinner date with my ex-husband’s girlfriend, and I really don’t want to be late.

I don’t see anyone sitting in it, and there isn’t anyone outside. I look to the front door of the apartment next to me and grimace. Odds are good that the culprit is in there, and I’m going to have to meet my new neighbors right now. I’m not thrilled to start out our relationship by asking them for a favor.

I have no choice, there’s no way I can squeeze my car out of the lot without causing tens of thousands of dollars in damage. I did think about it for a split second, and decided it’s not worth it.

I knock on the door and wait. I don’t hear any voices or footsteps. It’s not a good sign, because if no one’s here then I don’t know how the hell I’m going to find the person responsible for keeping me trapped.

The parking space is located in a very inconvenient spot. It’s pretty ridiculous that this has happened twice now. Maybe Ishould ask Ted if I could swap. The woman below me doesn’t even own a car. She rides a bike that she locks up in her backyard.

Yeah, the downstairs neighbors are lucky enough to have yards. I freaking wish.

I turn and stomp away, mentally preparing to ask someone for a ride. Either of my friends would say yes in a heartbeat, but I’m always hesitant to ask. Vic, because her hands are so full with two kids, and another on the way. Autumn, because she is also very pregnant, and she’s not having an easy go of it. Her morning sickness missed the memo that it’s supposed to end after the first trimester.

And that it’s only supposed to happen in the morning.

Before I can become desperate enough to reach out to my parents for a ride, the door opens behind me.

I spin so fast it’s dizzying, with a huge smile plastered to my face.

“Can I help you?” The older man asks, eyeing my bright pink hair with a curious expression. I realize he’s the same one that was standing out here the other day.

“Hi! My name is Reya, I live next door.”

I put a hand out for him to shake and he thankfully goes right for it.

“Pierre. My kid is moving in here.”

He nods to the doorway behind him, but makes no move to go find this kid and introduce me. As long as they’re not a teenage boy, we should be good.

“It’s so great to meet you! That’s so exciting.” I give him finger guns, because why? I actually don’t know, I’m thinking too hard. “I hate to bother you on such a big day, but the moving truck down there is blocking my car in.”

I point down to where we can see the back end of my little black car. And the back end of the big truck blocking it.

“Goodness, that won’t do,” he says. I don’t know which part won’t do, but I hope it’s the one where I’m unable to leave. Iwillbe late to this dinner, my time management already wasn’t great. I gave myself a whole thirty seconds to spare, and that’s been used up.

“Let me grab those keys so you can get on your way.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.