Dollar Stars

Dollar Stars

~Stars and Dollar Tree

I wake up to the blaring alarm clock that sings Walking on Sunshine and forget why I ever liked that song. With my eyes wanting to stay shut and the twisted stomach I fell asleep with, it is hard to gather the motivation to plant my feet on the cold hardwood floor. Luckily, my need for caffeine weighs out my need for comfort, and I walk. As I wait for the coffee pot to fill, I take in the sunny-coffee scented air. I could really be happy right now if my life didn’t suck.

I love this coffee table. I love the arch over my window that holds low-maintenance plants. I love the warm sensation my throat feels after each sip I take in. What I don’t love is the massive stack of mail in front of me. Speaking of which, it is 8:55 am, which means I should be reminded of the time with the closing of a hatch at my front door any second now. The mail carrier, Tony, always drops my mail off at this time on the dot. He has a weird thing with extreme punctuality. As predicted, I hear the hatch close and head to make the stack even more gargantuan. It is way too sunny and hot outside as I open the door and I close it abruptly. The sigh that escapes me once I arrive back at the coffee table is heavy, as I know it is time to go through the endless pile of papers. I start by separating them by catastrophe. There is the car payment, the car insurance, the medical insurance, the rent, the countless loan payments, the car accident, and there are so many more that I just cannot handle. I collapse to the floor next to the stove and count the tiles. It’s only when I hit triple digits that I get myself to stop and breathe as any normal living being should naturally. Perhaps if I use dividers, it will be easier for me to tackle. I gradually sit up to drink some water and find my keys.

The drive over was fairly painless with the roads empty. It’s these moments I am grateful for all the good morning churchgoers. Actually, I might even be able to be excited for this drive since I’m going to my favorite store. Rounding the final turn, I can see the green sign that lights Dollar Tree. It may not be glamorous, but I find comfort here. I know I’m only supposed to pick up dividers but I’m sure it won’t hurt to pick up a couple more things. I park in the side parking lot and head my way in. I start in the seasonal section even though I know I won’t be putting anything in my cart from this isle. I just like looking and wondering. Sometimes I catch myself daydreaming about if I were another person and if I would even be in a cheap store like this if I had another option. Either way, I’m sure I would have enjoyed the sticker isle most, all the same. I keep going between these beautiful felt flower stickers and iridescent stars. Weirdly enough, I associate flowers with perfection and stars with failing. Ultimately, I choose the stars over flowers again.

With the expected post-church time traffic, the ride back was less painless, and I wish I could teleport. Nevertheless, I make it back to my place in one piece with not too much to carry in, which is a success. I instantly feel regret and relief once I enter the door and find myself searching for a suitable dinner. Luckily, there was a lone soup can in the back and I have bread left over from the night before. I grab a bowl and as I empty the contents of the can, I notice something blue under the fridge. I pop the bowl in the microwave and go to inspect. I have to tug harder than expected but it releases and reveals a beach, Orange Beach specifically. I remember the sand, the wind, and the water. Most fondly of all, I remember the laughter. I would do anything to be there one more time or to hear the laughter from her just once more. I turn it over and read loopy letters and numbers and recognize the handwriting. That alone makes my eyes tear up and I should really put important things like this in a safer place...she should have been in a safer place. I do the breathing exercises for the second time today and place the ancient photo in an ancient photo album where it will be safe from sand, wind, water, and anything else that may threaten its memory and beauty. I know it has been two years, but it feels like I just came back from where the photo was taken. It’s time, though; I should go back and do the unthinkable. I have to move on. Otherwise, every day will just be like every other day. I open my calendar and set August 7th as Beach Day.