Wakened by the songbirds

My hair looking like a nest.
Shampooed erringly with body wash.
Dressed with one blue sock, one black.
Left the house with keys locked inside.
Drove to work on fumes.
Called my boss by the wrong name –
shaken, walked into the mens restroom.
Left early to fill the car –
drove off with the pump hose attached.
Sat on the porch
the morning songbirds singing their evening song.
The day turning to dusk.
My hair, curly and blowing askew
from my cattywampus day