Norman felt anxious. He did not feel the panicked, directionless anxiety that could overcome him when the female secretary at work asked him about his day, or even more severe his weekend, had been. He felt the anxiety that arose from a need to placate an immediate problem that had remained pending for far too long a period.
He had risen that morning much the same as he had risen each morning prior. He had made his bed and inspected the hospital corners to ensure their durability. Afterwards, he neatly folded his pajamas, showered long enough to satisfy his own quality standards and stood before the mirror to prepare his visage for the day to come. He made sure his left side part left no more than an estimated one-fifth of his entire scalp laid on the small side of the divide before dressing himself in the flat grey gabardine and white cotton of his work suit. Carefully, he inspected three, equally appealing four-in-hands that he adjudged to acceptably complete the ensemble before choosing the tie that evidenced alternating navy and goldenrod strips presented at a slight bias. Today he would risk the full Windsor. It was Friday, after all.
He used a worn metal shoe horn to slip his heels into the plain calf-skin oxfords that complimented the black cotton knee socks that ran up his pale calves beneath the suit pant legs. The patten black leather belt cinched his waistline just enough to fasten his trousers to his midsection without bunching or producing the wrinkles he spent his entire life attempting to avoid.
He walked patiently into the kitchen where, upon flipping the light switch and casting the pleasant pallid glow of phosphorescent sunlight across the brilliant white vinyl flooring, he found Norman waiting for his mornings repast. The coffee machine began to percolate on schedule with the timer he had set the night before. He used the interim to measure out an exact cup of dog food, place the food into the bowl and refill Normans water dish with the filtered tap water he had placed into the refrigerator shortly after he programmed the coffee machine in yesterday's waning hours. Norman began to consume his breakfast just as the machine beeped to alert the world of the final products availability.
Norman selected the mug that bore his employers emblem on its obverse and reverse as a reminder that one must first accomplish the task at hand before earning the frivolities of weekend leisure. Slowly yet methodically he drew the warm liquid across his tongue with the slightest hint of an attempt to savor some of its more subtle notes; however, he did not tarry. Soon, he had consumed enough caffeine to render the forthcoming commute bearable; therefore, he poured the residual fluid into the kitchen sink's brushed metal basin and used tepid water to gently clean both the mug and the basin. He would wait to clean fully his mug and Norman's bowls when he returned from work that evening. It was Friday, after all.
He petted Norman to convey affection then walked to his front door. Once more he inspected his uniform, this time at the mirror that hung plainly from the off white wall perpendicular to the doorframe. He adjusted his tie ever so slightly and complimented himself on the mild break in his trouser legs that he determined acted as the outfit's ultimate coup de grace. As he stepped through the threshold he realized his error.
It creeped into him like quicksilver. He had forgot to brush his teeth. He knew that if he did not correct the uncorrected with indefatigable alacrity that the day would become compromised. The pivot he used to change his vector occurred so suddenly that he nearly robbed himself of the opportunity to close his now wide open front door. He moved with conscious direction into his bathroom and took up the brush that resided in the tan enamel cup on his white porcelain sink top. He squeezed a small dollop of vividly colored toothpaste onto the brush head and began the circular strokes that kept his enamel healthy and his smile inoffensively colored. He spit, rinsed his mouth with lukewarm water and spit again.
He looked in the mirror. He exhaled. Although he would spend the next several minutes pondering the root cause of this nearly fatal oversight, he had not jeopardized this days inception.
He looked at the green bottle of mouthwash that beckoned to him from its resting place aside the toothbrush's cup before it occurred that the time wasted returning to his home to clean his mouth had deprived him of the chance to fully cleanse his oral cavity. But this omission did not trouble his now pacific mind.
It was Friday, after all.
Submitted October 23, 2015 at 11:36PM by Cronley http://ift.tt/1KujGQ0 lifeofnorman
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