another little ditty of writing, it's been a good day for it

Stooped down over her pinewood table, Kathryn looks perplexed. The thoughts of her past swarm through her head while she realizes it might just be better sitting on the cushiony stool. Kathryn is a small stature woman who appears frail yet she has a strong and defined personality. She can be introverted although she tries to make it seem that's not the fact and she doesn't want to admit it. Kathryn attempts to get "chores" done around the cramped place where she resides, yet procrastination creeps into her brain and she continues being positioned on the stool. There are mounds of laundry (both dirty and just newly washed) all about and dirty dishes piled up in the sink, but she continues stewing over her thoughts.
She remembers high school like it was just yesterday, although, it was over 15 years ago. Over time, Kathryn’s memories and ideas from the past are glimpses of happiness yet sorrow all wrapped into one. Some instances are vividly clear, she has lost touch with most of the people she once spent so much time with and partied with constantly. Music on the radio sometimes makes her recall a certain moment- sometimes she is even brought to tears. She wants to reconnect with some of those old friends- what are they doing? Where are they now and what have they made of themselves? She has one of those vivid memories again- sitting on the floor upstairs engulfed in a room with smoke, not from a fire of course. She can see the faces of youth surrounding her for a moment, ah to be so young and irresponsible one more time.
She snaps back into the reality of the moment and realizes that she needs to go get ready for work. She doesn’t picture being a cashier for the rest of her life but for the moment it works and will pay the bills and stop the collection agents from constantly bombarding her with calls.
The melodic tune of Shannon Hoon is blaring in the background while she attempts to no longer procrastinate. Thoughts are playing her mind like the tracks flow out of her stereo system. Her eyes once again well up and she is frozen in the moment of a thought from college. Those were some amazing snippets of memories. Alcohol induced, friendly exchanges, and an attempt to actually get some work done.
She rushes around the 1000 sq foot room that is filled with more nostalgic items that she has collected throughout the years, sifting through the pile of clothing. She hates being late, it’s a good quality in her mind. She just squeaks by with a little time to get things accomplished. But, really sometimes, she just wishes that she could be lazy and hang out and do nothing. Although this is something that could get her in trouble, once not in the so far distance she used to do just that.