Fake It Till You Make It

8

In the midst of a chaotic afternoon, I found myself rushing to grab a book from the library before heading out from school to the Vasilios mansion. "Crap!" I breathed out, realizing that time was slipping through my fingers like sand. The Vasilios mansion had summoned me once again for my part-time job. Today, however, it seemed like I would be thirty minutes late, a thought that weighed heavily on my mind.

The day had been relentless, with back-to-back classes and professors who seemed determined to drown us in assignments. As a student juggling the demands of academia and a part-time job, I often felt like I was walking a tightrope without a safety net. But there was no time for self-pity; I had a responsibility, and the Vasilios mansion was not known for its leniency.

Fumbling with my bag and books, I dashed towards the library, my heart pounding like a drumbeat. The librarian gave me a stern look as I rushed past the hushed rows of shelves, grabbing the book I needed with trembling hands. "Sorry," I muttered, not daring to stop.

With the coveted book in my possession, I sprinted back to my car, parked haphazardly in the school's lot. As I settled into the driver's seat and started the engine, I couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh. I would be late, and that was something I couldn't afford.

The road stretched out before me, a maze of traffic lights and impatient drivers. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard; it seemed to mock me with each passing second.

As I sped down the winding roads, I reached into my bag and pulled out a granola bar. My stomach had been protesting loudly throughout the day, and I needed to silence its gurgling protests. Yesterday had brought a momentous occasion in my life – my first paycheck as a nutritionist. The numbers on that check had made my eyes widen and my heart dance with joy. Of course, I had known what my salary would be, but it was an entirely different feeling to see it written on paper.

In celebration of my newfound financial stability, I had taken Ava out for dinner last night. It had been a delightful evening, filled with laughter and delicious food at our favorite Indian restaurant. The memory of our celebration brought a smile to my face as I navigated the busy streets.

Finally arriving at the Vasilios mansion, I couldn't help but feeling relieved. The drive had been a mad rush, and I had brought my homework with me, fully intending to squeeze in some study time in between preparing meals.

As I entered the mansion's cavernous kitchen, I placed my bag on the table and washed my hands with practiced efficiency. With my hands now clean, I set about preparing dinner.

Humming a quiet tune under my breath, I focused on the task at hand. The vegetables glistened with freshness as I rinsed them under the tap, and the salmon lay waiting for my culinary touch.

As the salmon sizzled in the pan, I pulled out my textbooks and notes, determined to make the most of my time. The Vasilios mansion was vast and had an eerie silence that could be unnerving, but I had learned to embrace it. It provided a conducive environment for study, free from distractions. I settled into my homework, eager to make some progress.

Time seemed to blur as I delved into my assignments, the aroma of the cooking salmon mixing with the scent of ink on paper. It was a strange juxtaposition, but it had become the norm in my life. I answered questions, solved problems, and scribbled notes in between flipping vegetables and checking on the salmon's progress.

By the time the salmon had turned a delicious shade of golden brown and the vegetables had softened to perfection, I realized I had made significant headway in my homework. Two subjects were nearly conquered, their complexities untangled with each stroke of my pen. A sense of accomplishment washed over me, and I whispered to myself proudly, "Not that bad."

I couldn't help but reward myself with a small pat on the head, a gesture of self-encouragement. The juggling act of work and study was relentless, but moments like these made it all worth it. With my homework now neatly completed, I turned my attention back to the culinary masterpiece I had created.

Carefully, I transferred the cooked salmon and vegetables into glass containers, making sure to maintain their presentation. Even though he always had something to say about it, I think he secretly likes it. Or maybe I'm just delusional. With the food securely packed, I placed the containers in the fridge, ready to be served later.

As I closed the fridge door, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. I had managed to complete my homework and prepare a delicious dinner.

However, just as I was reveling in my accomplishments, a sudden noise outside the mansion brought me to a standstill. The sound of a car engine and tires on gravel sent a shiver down my spine.

My eyes widened and my heart stopped beating. I looked at the time on my phone. It was forty minutes over time. Oh shit, Mr. Vasilios had arrived!

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