Sunday.

One cream, two sugars.

Five spins clockwise, five spins counter.
Lost count at three spins counter.
Drains coffee.
Washes mug.
Pours coffee.
One cream, two sugars.
Five spins clockwise, five spins counter.
Answers phone on the third ring.
Mom.
Hi, baby.
Three second count before responding.
Hello.
How are you?
Im nervous. For nothing I can point a finger at, but everything at the same time.
Three seconds.
Im okay.
Your father and I want to talk finances with you when you get a chance.
I think about hanging up.
She continues. We cant keep putting this off.
Three seconds.
Ill call you after class, mom. I told you I applied at the library. Im working on
everything.
Shell never understand how much is on my plate.
I know you are. I just want to stay on track. You know we would help you pay for
college if we could financially. Were doing the best we can.
Why she feels the need to say this everyday, I dont get. I know she means well. I hate
being reminded of things that in a perfect world, I wouldnt have to deal with.
Three seconds.
Mom, I know. I love you. Ill call you after class.
I love you, sweetheart. She responds quickly. Ill talk to you soon. Have a good day.
I hang up within a half a second.
I look at my apartment stovetop clock.
7:43am. I inhale sharply. She always throws me off schedule. I should have a time period
set-aside by now to prepare for this kind of stuff. I take mental note to start applying her
pop up phone calls to my morning routines.
I grab my jacket and throw a knitted scarf around my neck. I sling my backpack across
my shoulders and leap out the door, making sure to lock it, but trying the knob anyway.
You can never be too sure.