Mary Richman has always been more interested in other people than herself.
She always states her opinions unapologetically, and has become scarily good at reading people, despite the fact that she's in a typically socially awkward profession.
Before...
"This is my heartbeat song and I'm gonna play it. Been so long I forgot how to turn it up up up up all night long, Oh up up all night long." I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, obnoxiously singing along to Kelly Clarkson as I did my make-up for work.
I absolutely love music. Like all kinds of music, Pop, country, Rock, Alternative, I love it all. Its one of the most boundlessness forms of communication. There is nothing that you feel that can't be summed up with the perfect song, and it also gives you a glimpse into the human psyche. I mean, if at least one song exists that can describe how you are feeling better than you can, then that means there is a song that best describes how everyone feels at some point or another, so my philosophy: If you can understand music, you can understand a person. Especially when it comes to analyzing the type of music they listen to.
My Jam session was cut off by a rather aggressive knock on the door. I reached over, pushing it open while continuing to sing.
"Speaking of 'Up all night long', some people enjoy sleep before they have to get up and go to work in the morning." She said, leaning against the door frame.
"Its morning, Zo, so your complaint is incorrect and therefore invalid." I told her, putting the lid back on my lipstick.
"Well, in my world, 'night' means the time when I should be sleeping, which I can't do when you're blaring music at 5 AM."
"First of all, I was not blaring it, second of all, I prefer to listen to music while I do Yoga, which is crucial for my sanity. If I don't get in some early morning physical activity, its quite that by the end of the day, I will be a convicted murderer. Or not, it depends on how good a murderer I am, I've never tested that theory."
"Why would you be a murderer?" She asked. I shot her a skeptical look.
"Because, getting up in the morning, having my coffee, listening to some great music and doing Yoga makes me a much more serene person, meaning when I certain 'Spawn of Satan' co-worker tries to talk to me, I respond with rude sarcasm as opposed to violent assault."
"Spawn of Satan? Don't you think that's a bit much?" She asked. "I like Leif. He's been nothing but sweet since I started at Sprq Point."
"That's what makes him so evil. He pretends to be this nice, sweet, compassionate guy, when in reality, he's a conniving little rat trying to con his way to the top." I said. "And I know this because-"
"You can read people. I know." Zoey interrupted. "Do me a favor? Read me. How am I feeling right now?" I sighed.
"Annoyed and you want me to keep the noise down in the morning."
"Wow, you are good." She said sarcastically, causing me to roll my eyes and turn my music off. When my music was turned off however, different music began playing, this time, bleeding through the walls.
"Just call me angel of the morning, angel. Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby! Just call me angel of the morning." I smiled at the sound of Juice Newton's song Angel of the Morning, and more specifically, the incredible voice of our neighbor/landlord Mo.
"You're up. You might as well get ready for work." I pointed out. She threw her head back, groaning before making her way back into her room. I chuckled, heading to my room to pick out an outfit. I opened my closet, quickly deciding on a white blouse, a light pink suede jacket, a black floral skirt, black tights, and a pair of black ankle boots.
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