I knew I should've gone home last night. Who cares if Russia wouldn't have approved? I knew as soon as I woke up this morning that today wasn't going to be my kind of day. Not that you can blame the day for your mood. It's usually the people that you see throughout your day. Then again, I didn't really see much of anyone. Great, now I'm rambling. I can't even tell you what happened today without becoming nervous. I guess I just have to take a deep breath and start with yesterday.
"...And you're going to have to call Ukraine again." Estonia told me as he read from his stupid to-do list. Actually, it was my to-do list... that he made for me. Sometimes he really annoys me. It's good that he's organized and all, one of us has to be, but did he really have to make a to-do list for me and Lithuania?
As if him reading the list to me three times a day wasn't bad enough, he writes it on the mirror in my room for me with this special mirror pen that he has. I didn't even know those existed. He writes it there so I'll see it as soon as I get out of bed. I barely ever look at the thing anymore. I hear it enough as it is.
I didn't want to reply to him, mostly because I could hardly believe he was reading me tomorrow's to-do list, but I had to because I couldn't take it any longer. "I call Ukraine five times a day!" I was almost yelling. "If she didn't answer any of the other times, she's not going to answer now. He has to accept that she's gone! Or at least make Lithuania call her for once," I added under my breath.
Estonia shook his head. "Russia says that you're the one that has to do it. He thinks Ukraine will respond to you the best. Besides, Lithuania says he can't call any other women because Belarus may get jealous or something." Estonia waved his hand dismissively.
Damn. I forgot he hears everything. And Lithuania. God. What is wrong with him? No, no. That's a story for another day.
"Right, whatever, I'm going to bed," I told him, lying down. Oh yeah. Did I mention we were in my room and I was sitting in bed? Estonia stormed in while I was just lying down to get some sleep. That should've been my clue to go home.
"I'm not done reading the list," he said as he adjusted his glasses.
"Well, I'm done listening to it," I snapped. Yeah, I know. I shouldn't make enemies with a person I see literally every day of my life, but I was tired and cranky. I wasn't exactly ready to deal with Estonia's obsessive list writing.
"I see," was all Estonia said before leaving the room.
I didn't feel guilty for snapping at him? Why should I? He was in my room and interrupting my sleep patterns. I was just glad that I could finally get some rest.
Okay. We have to fast forward a bit and now it's morning. I yawn, sit up, stretch a bit, stand up, stretch some more, and walk over to my mirror so I can read my list. Yes, I know. It irritates me, but it's become habitual.
The only problem is that when I open my eyes there's no list on my mirror! That should be a good thing, right? Estonia's finally backing off. It should be a good day, but in my line of work I know better. I've been through too much to see this as anything other than a bad omen. When a nation changes its attitude towards you, it usually means war. Literally.
"And there's the first sign of a bad day," I muttered.
We're going to fast forward again because breakfast and lunch were really uneventful. It was eerie. Usually by that time Estonia has found me at least six different times to remind me of a job or read me the list. By that time Russia usually has come find me to say something that will make him laugh (which really isn't that hard. He has a weird sense of humor) or Lithuania has come to me three times asking if I have heard from Belarus (my response is usually 'what?'). None of that has happened and now it's almost dinner time.
So I've spent the whole day being bored out of my mind and trying to remember what Russia needs me to do. Despite this, I refuse to admit that I need that stupid list. The one thing I do remember is I'm supposed to set the table before dinner everyday.
I walked into the dining room, plates in hand, only to see that the table has already been set. Not only has the table been set, but it's been set with the wrong plates.
That's kind of when the awfulness of the day becomes a little too much for me. I know that sounds a bit crazy, but trust me, Russia gets really upset when you put out the wrong plates for meals.
"What's this, Latvia?" Russia asked me as he walked in. That's him all right, Mr. Perfect Timing.
Which brings me to the present. I whirled around in surprise, clutching the correct plates to my chest and shaking like a chihuahua. I'm dumbfounded. How do I explain to him that I wasn't the one to set the table? He won't buy that I just found the table this way, I mean, who does the chores without having to?
I don't know how long I've been standing here staring at the tall man in front of me. It must have been a long time though because Russia says, "Well, Latvia?"
I know Russia well. I see this man every day. Most people can't tell when he's angry until it's too late, but I can see past his smile and even features. He's about to snap and I'm the cause of it. And not only am I the cause, but I'm directly in front of him. I need to say something fast.
"I guess the chore fairy decided to pay us a visit today," I hear myself saying.
At first, I think I see a bit of laughter in his eyes, but then he sees the plates on the table. "So then it's one of two things. Either the chore fairy put out the wrong plates or she put out the right plates and you want me to think that it was her."
Well, that's dumb. Why would a chore fairy put out the wrong plates? Wouldn't she want to help the people she was doing the chores for? Whoa. Wait. No, that's dumb because there is no such thing as a chore fairy.
"I... You see..."
"I put out the plates," Estonia says from behind me. He must have entered in through the kitchen.
Blasted Estonia. It would've been better if he just started a way, but no, he hit below the belt and messed up Russia's plates.
"Estonia, you're the chore fairy?" Russia asks him.
"No, I just put out the plates in anticipation of Latvia forgetting to do it, like he forgot to call Ukraine," Estonia replies with a smug look on his face.
Damn. Call Ukraine. Another thing I do every day.
"I see," Russia mutters, staring at the plates. "Come with me, Latvia."
"I'm sorry?" Why should I be the one that gets called away? Estonia is the one that put out the wrong plates.
"You shouldn't have asked Estonia to do your chores for you. You should've known that he wouldn't have been able to them properly."
"What?" I say as Estonia says, "Excuse me?"
"He didn't ask me to do it," Estonia classifies. "I was trying to prove a point about my lists."
"That's no matter," Russia waved him away. "Let's go, Latvia."
Blasted Estonia. I glare at him as I follow Russia out of the room. There's no way I'm going to admit I need the list now.