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My Private Hideaway

            Everyone has their morning routine, but do we ever really take the time to notice the little things? After stressful days at school and work, i like to lose myself in my own private hideaway. My bedroom is the last thing I see before I fall asleep every night and the first thing I catch sight of when i awaken. There is something special about the seclusion of a bedroom. of all places, this is the one setting that is completely in your own. It exudes independence, personality, and style of the occupant.
             A distorted top forty hit blared through my faithful alarms tiny speaker. I pounded the snooze button with the precision of an elephant stepping on a mouse. Warm rays of the blinding sun peeked through my crooked venetian blinds suggesting the start of a new day. I wiped away the grit of a good nights sleep from my eyes, and saw the dim numbers on the alarm clock taunting me.
             At one corner, I see my oak dresser. The dresser is tall and quite old, a hand me down from my sister before she married and moved away. It stands to the left and three feet across from the foot of my bed. The brown wooden finish, tarnished from years of use, is in desperate need to be restained. Upon the dresser rests an unused fourteen inch television set accompanied by a video cassette player, collecting dust. Alongside the dresser sits a stereo, used to fill the void of silence while I do my homework or scavenge for clothing. Piles of compact disks lie scattered across my bedroom floor, wading through the swamp of magazines that lay on the carpet of the floor. I step inside my closet and immediately the fleeting scent of lavender suffuses me. I sort through my vast array of dresses and skirts once rescued from the clearance racks, begging to be worn, and set them aside for trendier items. A rainbow of tank tops and sweaters are shoveled out of the way to reach the leopard print, terry cloth robe, recently bathed in fabric softener.

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