Something unusual happened today. I'm not sure what it was, but somehow my day got better when I arrived at work. Usually it's the other way around. Once I punch in, my day is ruined. Is it opposite day?
I was miserable from the moment I got up because between my first alarm and my second, I'd actually fallen back asleep and was dreaming again. If I'd had the ability to talk at that moment, I would have cursed a blue streak. Instead I muttered my threats against God and the universe in my own head as I staggered from bed to bathroom. I was so tired one of my eyes refused to open on its own. I thought I might have to tape it open or prop up the lid with a toothpick like I was a goddam cartoon character.
The last of the painkillers is still leaving me, so I couldn't shit with a damn this morning. I felt bloated, so I skipped breakfast. My blood sugar was insanely high. I fucking tripped over a garbage can and landed on my stitched up hand. And then there was traffic, which was worse than usual, and I hadn't even hit any main roads. These were the fucking back streets!
But I got to work and punched in, and the world suddenly changed. Everything went according to plan. Ain't that fuckin' weird? How does something like this happen? It was so jarring that I started worrying about punching out. I kept thinking my day would revert to shit once I left the office.
But it's been pretty decent today. I got some good reading in. All in all, it turned out to be pretty good. It's just that fucking morning. Everything that happened between six and eight totally blew. Maybe it's just better to get the worst shit out of the way first thing. It essentially guaranteed that my day couldn't get any worse, and it didn't. Unless the International Space Station loses a toilet seat and it crashes through my ceiling and onto my head after I post this, that is.
Wish me luck.
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