The President’s Plaque: Part 4

Over-Slumber…

So I go back to my room to rest. FINALLY. REST. I take a look at the clock, which shows it’s 4:17pm. Dinner usually starts around 6. So I have a little bit of free time. I pull out “Double Identity” by Margaret Peterson Haddix and begin reading.
… … … … The book falls to the ground….
When I wake up, the light is grayish-blue outside my window. I glance at the clock, and closed my eyes again. WAIT A SECOND.
“WHAT?!” My eyes shoot back to the clock. 6:23am. Aaah! I hadn’t showered yesterday!!!
I’m supposed to brush my teeth and take a shower from 6:00 to 6:25, eat breakfast from 6:30 to 6:40, go back upstairs, take 15 minutes to change, comb my hair, clean my glasses, and yaddy-yadda. By then it would be exactly 7:00, if I was on time. It takes half an hour drive to get to the White House, and the whole greet and shake thing with the other nerds starts at 8:00, but I’m due there at 7:45 to get everything set up and ready, because I’m going to be on TV!!! NOT GOOD.
I charge into the bathroom, tear my PJs off, and jump into the shower. The water is freezing, but I don’t have any time to wait for it to turn warm. I squish some shampoo-and-conditioner-2-in-1 onto my hands and lather it into my hair violently. Once it’s thoroughly lathered, I rinse the shampoo/conditioner off my hands, and rub some liquid body soap onto my body. Then I rinse off everything quickly but carefully, turn off the water, and grab my towel.
I dry myself and my hair, jump out, grab my comb and quickly do up my hair into a neat ponytail, wrap the towel around me, and charge back into my bedroom. I put on a black, formal dress with some simple, yet elegent, sequins, quickly slip on my pantyhose, and run down the stairs.
Oh, darn it! My glasses! I run back up the stairs and grab my glasses. Down the stairs again…
“Aah!” I almost trip! Eating some cereal on the kitchen counter is Mike, neatly dressed up — suit, tie, and all.
“What time is it?” I ask him before he can say a word about my outrageous aah, while frantically shoving a granola bar into my mouth.
“6:58. Why are you rushing so much?”
“Ugh, you guys didn’t wake me up last night for dinner! I woke up at 6:23 this morning, and I’m starving, but I don’t have time to eat anything more than this disgusting granola bar!” I had accidentally grabbed the one I hated.
“Oh, sorry… I told everybody to stay out of your room so you could sleep, because it looked like you were really tired…” Mike says with a guilty look on his face.
“I’s ogh’ay,” I mumble. I was trying to say “it’s okay” but the stupid granola bar… UGH! I swallow it and almost choke.
“Blech! C’mon, Mike. Let’s go.” Mike puts his bowl into the sink and rushes to the door with me. I grab my coat and slip on my high-heels. Mike puts on his dress shoes.