Ordinary Jane

Jane was very ordinary, and her days frustratingly so. This day in particular was cast in grey before she even opened her eyes. The window beside her bed glowed silver with sunlight that forced its way through the thick blanket of clouds covering the sky. As she did wake, her eyes slowly blinking to bring her bedside clock into focus, she realized she was very, very late.

Jane was up in an instant. And as an ordinary rushed morning goes, it was quite the disaster. Before she could even begin, a sharp pain pulsed through her big toe as she stubbed it on a package her roommate had carelessly thrown into Jane’s room the night before. Limping to the bathroom, she brushed her teeth on the toilet before putting in her contacts. To make matters worse, she didn’t notice the tear in one contact until it was too late, and tears were streaming down her face from the pain in her eye. It took her more time than Jane really had to sort it all out.

On her way out of the bathroom, she noticed the frizzy mess adorning her head. Grabbing a clear hair tie, she braided her hair while figuring out what to wear. Peering in her closet, she realized all her clothes were, of course, dirty. All but that one shirt that fits weird and makes her sweat more than usual. But there was no time to contemplate, so she threw it on with some jeans and sneakers, and ran out the door. 

She was heading to a birthday brunch for Amy, her best friend. There would be a ton of girls Jane didn’t know, and she had spent much of last night awake in bed practicing her self-introduction. Given how the morning was going so far, she couldn’t expect much from the party she was about to attend. After all, she could accidentally offend someone, or make a fool of herself. Already 30 minutes late, no one would fault her if she decided to turn around, go back to bed, and tell Amy she had completely overslept. If only Savannah hadn’t overstayed her welcome last night, she may have woken up on time. And if Rory had just given Jane the chance to deal with her own package, it wouldn’t have been in the middle of her floor to assault her toe. And if Jo hadn’t left her clothes in the washer all day yesterday, Jane’s wardrobe would’ve been more agreeable. 

Jane seemed more and more angry as she drove across town. Her brows furrowed and her lips pressed together. “Would you stop that!” she yelled, her hands coming down hard on the steering wheel. Who she was yelling at, no one could say. Perhaps her terrible day was already catching up to her.

“You! I’m talking to you!” she yelled again at no one in particular. “Your depressing narration has made my morning absolutely miserable. Could you try to be more positive?”

…

Wait, me?

“Yes! You! My day is not ruined; it has barely started!” 

What Jane meant was unclear. The narration was simply observation and insight. Jane’s day has objectively gone wrong at every turn so far. There is no other way to describe it but terrible. Ordinarily terrible, of course. 

“That’s just because of how you’ve told it.” Jane replied. Obviously she was being delusional. “And why have you decided the rest of my day will go bad already!” she added. 

And so with great annoyance the narration was turned over to Jane. How would you say your morning went?

“Well,” began Jane, unsure as she should be, “When I woke up, I could tell it was cloudy outside. And cloudy days are some of my favorites. They’re quiet and peaceful.”

Apparently, Jane finds rushed mornings peaceful.

 “They’re the kind of days that make me want to just curl up with some tea. But then I realized I was very late for Amy’s brunch, as you so kindly pointed out. So I quickly headed to the bathroom and then stubbed my toe on a package Rory had left in the middle of my room.”

And as I said, it was the start of a less-than-ideal morning. 

“I suppose it wasn’t exactly how I wanted the morning to start. But then I realized it was the big order of books I had been waiting ages for! It made me smile to think about curling up with my new books and tea when I got home. So this slight impediment was not as disastrous as one might think.”

Are you mocking me?

“I did brush my teeth on the toilet, but I don’t know why you had to include that part. Honestly, I’m cracking up thinking about how I cried trying to put in my contacts. I had to wipe my face on the bathroom towel just to get enough traction to fish it back out of my eye. But now my fresh contact feels pretty great.”

Of course it does.

“And my bedhead and the shirt saved me so much time deciding what to wear. They made the choice for me. I had no option but to wear a French braid and my least favorite shirt. I did compensate for the shirt by grabbing my favorite jeans, though.”

… I do have to admit the jeans look splendid.

“I know I’m embarrassingly late this morning, but I can’t wait to laugh about everything with Amy. And I think it will give me something to talk to the other girls about, too. Honestly, I think I’m more excited for today than I was when I went to bed last night.” Jane finished with a grin. Sincere gladness filled her eyes, blinding her to any interpretation of the morning that would make her feel otherwise.

Compared to Jane’s version, the original does sound more negative. Or, perhaps, just more realistic. And so here the story ends.

“Don’t you want to see how brunch goes?” Jane once again interrupted. But something Jane doesn’t realize is that trying to narrate someone who talks back is quite infuriating. And anyway, there most likely wouldn’t be anything of interest to tell–

“You don’t know that–” 

Because Jane was, in fact, very ordinary–just optimistically so.