A.S.H

Miss Monthly Devil

First day of work, how much more excited can I be- that line failed to work with me, it just flew over my head and out the window. I thought I'd be feeling over-the-moon, seeing as I was finally working in a professional government job, and more so than that, I was going to work my first day in the same workplace that Dad used to work...but the enthusiasm was gone the second my eyes snapped opened.

They say first day jitters were never too bad, but obviously they were only referring to the minority, because that 'never too bad' quite clearly did not match nor explain the pool of nerves that had blossomed in my stomach. It's not like I was an intern - this job was really mine - I just wasn't feeling so confident all of a sudden about starting the job today. Maybe I was overthinking it, but I couldn't help it: right now I was more nervous than I was on my result's day, and results day was one of the most anxiety-driven days I had ever lived to face.

I lay in bed, minutes after my alarm had gone off, trying to convince myself that I was fine, and that everything would be fine. Who knows? I might've just been homesick...even though it's barely been a day? Yeah right, I was definitely not prepared to start the day. I should get up, I muttered to myself without much conviction, I should, but I can't be bothered to. Gosh, what was wrong with me?

I forced my arms to throw the bedsheet off my body, regrettably suffering the biting cold that came to attack any exposed skin, as fast as the heat of the blanket had left. Without contemplating any further, I rushed to the bathroom to get prepped for the day...and happened to find the unfortunate cause of my unnerving distress. It just had to be my time of month, on my very first day of work, how damn fun!

Letting out a small shriek of annoyance, I gathered myself and continued to prep, not allowing the 'Miss Monthly Devil' to do any more damage, although the sudden leg pain was very encouraging. Lucky for me, the apartment was already stocked with food and snacks, but if I were being honest, the coffee machine placed on the left corner of the kitchen counter top, was what practically sung my name. Fancying myself with a steaming cup of coffee, and a cinnamon and raisin bagel, I sat down (putting my aching legs at peace), and sent Mum a myriad messages about the car journey yesterday, my unwavering nerves, and of course, the unfortunate presence of M.M.D.

After finishing the last few crumbs of the bagel, and sipping the last millilitre of the heavenly coffee, I finally got dressed (in a beige blazer and smart trousers to match), and applied some mascara and lip tint. Clasping my dark grey and rose-gold watch on my wrist, I was ready right in time for a couple knocks on the front door of the apartment to sound.

And so it begins.

I opened the door, to find a young women, possibly around my age if not a few years older staring back at me. Tight honey-brown curls hung just inches over her shoulders, accentuating natural bronze of her skin. Her sky-coloured eyes stood out quite starkly, amongst the light sprinkle of freckles that graced her near blemish-less face, and they stared directly at my face, "Hola, como estás? Espero que hayas dormido bien."

"Hola?" I repeated the only word I knew in Spanish, followed by an awkward chuckle. Did I get sent the wrong tour guide? Within a second, she burst into laughter and unsure of whether I was supposed to laugh with her, I decided to stay silent as she continued. "Oh my- Oh my god your face," she managed between the laughter, "I should've taken a picture." After noticing she was the only one laughing, she paused, or well tried to. Small giggles escaped though she was trying her best to contain her amusement.

She cleared her throat, "sorry, it's a bit of a tradition I follow," she giggled again, "sorry. I can never get over how puzzled people look after they dont understand a word I say, and it never gets old. Bet you weren't expecting your own Dora the Explorer knocking at your door this morning hey?"