Baby… this whole WEEK been disrespectful.
I’m talking back-to-back foolishness like life had a personal vendetta against me.
Every morning felt like the universe woke up and said:
“Lemme go tap Karen shoulder real quick… see if she still got fight in her.”
And by Wednesday?
I was fighting for my LIFE.
THE MORNING FROM HELL
I woke up LATE — like late-late — because my raggedy phone died in the middle of the night.
Ain’t no alarm.
Ain’t no warning.
Just the sound of my heart beating out of my chest.
It was 6:15 AM, and the bus comes at 6:15 AM.
I was still crusty and in the bed.
I shot up, threw on my scrubs, hit a disrespectful 2-second mouthwash rinse (don’t judge me), grabbed my bag and RAN out the house, hoping the bus was running late.
Mama still sleep.
Praise God.
Cause I did NOT have time for:
“Karen you got a lil money?”
No ma’am. Not today.
I took off toward the bus stop…
I see the bus leaving I started running after it
Damn I missed it.
The bus was GONE.
It just left me standing there like a dumb deer staring into headlights.
So now I gotta wait for the 6:45 bus, which mean:
I’m gon’ be super late
Miss Rose gon’ talk her shit
And I’m gon’ talk my shit back
And Coco just gone be glad I made it
I stopped in the street bent over breathing hard like:
“Lord… I’m tired of being you’re strongest soldier.”
The day already trash and it ain’t even 6:30 yet.
CALLING BRITTANY FOR BACKUP
I called Brittany while I was waiting on the next bus.
She answered sounding halfway sleep:
“…Hello?”
“Brittany, it’s Karen. I missed the damn bus. Cover me til I get there.”
“Okay… what time you think?”
“’Bout 7:15.”
“Aight. Want me to tell Miss Rose?”
“For what.”
“Karen… she gon’ notice anyway.”
She talking like Miss Rose running shit. And ain’t
“I know that… she notice everything but what she suppose to be doing”
Brittany laughed in my EAR:
“ Facts”
THE LATE-WORK DRAMA SHOW
I finally got to Petals at 7:20 AM, sweating, breathing hard, scrubs sticking to me like duct tape.
I turn the corner and BOOM —
Miss Rose standing there with her little clipboard and judgment in her eyes.
“Mhmm. Look who LATE.”
“Miss Rose… PLEASE. Not today.”
“You always late, Karen! ALWAYS!”
“And you always loud, Miss Rose. I guess we both consistent. Amen.”
Her eyes got BIG.
She looked like she wanted to chunk the clipboard at me.
Here come Coco, sipping her coffee like she ain’t got a single care in the world.
“Karen, you good? You here, that’s all that matter.”
Miss Rose twisted her mouth so hard she almost popped a tooth.
“COCO! She disrespectful!”
Coco shrugged:
“Then don’t talk to her.”
I chuckled.
Miss Rose stormed off like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
ROOM-TO-ROOM FOOLISHNESS
I grabbed my assignments and started RUSHING.
Room 1: Mr. Henderson half-sleep talking to ghosts.
Room 2: Mrs. Patterson telling me her ENTIRE family tree from 1912 to now.
Room 3: Miss Luna.
Lord.
MISS LUNA’S “LEAVE ME ALONE FOREVER” MOMENT
I knocked:
“Miss Luna… it’s Karen.”
She snapped back:
“GO AWAY”
Lord… okay.
I opened the door slowly like she had weapons.
she under the covers like she hiding from the law.
“What’s wrong, Mama?”
“Everything. My back hurt, my head hurt, this bed uncomfortable, the food nasty, and I WANNA GO HOME!”
Her voice cracked.
My lil heart cracked with it.
I sat beside her.
“I know, Miss Luna… and I’m sorry. I really am.”
“I don’t wanna be here.”
“I know.”
We sat a minute. No jokes. No roasting. Just us.
Then she sniffed and said:
“And DON’T say nothing ‘bout pancakes. I don’t want them.”
I nodded slow.
“Okay… but you gon’ get up though cause I’m not leaving you funky, Miss Luna.”
She rolled her eyes but got up.
Progress.
10AM: THE WWE DINING ROOM BRAWL
Around 10AM, while helping Mr. Allen wash up (he still flirting talking ’bout:
“Karen baby, you need a good man. I got grandsons.”
Sir please.)
I heard SCREAMING from the dining room.
Not regular screaming.
Not surprised screaming.
This was:
“I’m finna beat yo ass!” screaming.
I RAN.
I get there and WHAT DO I SEE?
Miss Lullabee and Mrs. Jenkins
nose-to-nose
like a pay-per-view fight.
“You stole my seat!”
“NO YOU STOLE MINE!”
“I BEEN SITTING HERE THREE YEARS!”
“I BEEN SITTING HERE FIVE!”
Residents gathered around like they bought tickets.
Crowd forming.
Jasmine in the back whispering,
“Who y’all think gon’ win?
Miss Lullabee got her chest puffed up.
Mrs. Jenkins waving her cane like she ready to SWING.
I stepped between them like a tired kindergarten teacher:
“LADIES. LAAAAADIES. Please. My spirit already low.”
They both yelled:
“Move out the way, let me get to her”
Lord take the whole nursing home.
I finally separated them, sat them at two DIFFERENT tables, and walked off in need of a cigarette.
And I don’t even smoke.
BREAK ROOM: WHERE CNAS GO TO DIE
I collapsed in the break room.
Face flat on the table.
Jorge walked in with chips and said:
“Damn Karen… you look deceased. You need a meal or a miracle?”
“I’m like Both of ’em.”
He handed me half his sandwich like communion.
“You gotta stop feeding me,” I said.
“You gotta stop LOOKING hungry.”
I ate it like it was Thanksgiving.
Then…
my phone buzzed.
My Mama: You got paid Friday right?
Here we go.
Me: …Yes.
Mama: Good, I need to borrow some money.
Girl I almost threw my phone ACROSS THE ROOM.
Me: How much.
Mama: Just 300.
Me: JUST!? What bill is 300 dollars??
Mama: Don’t worry bout all that. Just be a blessing.
My God.
Jorge said:
“How much she want this time?”
“300 hundred.”
He whistled like somebody smacked him.
“Damn.”
Exactly.
THE FINAL BUS BREAKDOWN
I clocked out.
I got on the bus.
I stared out the window like a depressed music video.
Mama called.
I answered with the lil bit of life left in me.
“Yes ma’am…”
“You on your way home?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Stop by the ATM and bring me that money.”
“Ma… I’m ON the bus.”
“Then go WHEN THE BUS DROP YOU OFF, damn!”
I just said:
“…okay, Ma.”
“Thank you baby!”
THE FINAL STRAW AT HOME
I walk in and Mama is laid across the couch like she BET royalty.
“You got my money?”
I handed her the $300.
“That’s my baby!”
I walked straight to my room, fell face-first into the bed, and didn’t move.
My phone buzzed.
Jorge: You good?
Me: Just tired.
Jorge: I know. You strong. You got this.
Me: Thank you.
Jorge: Anytime 😌
I exhaled.
And even though the whole day tried to take me out…
I knew tomorrow I was gon’ get up and do it again.
Because I always survive.
Even when I’m tired of surviving.
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