Getting Better

... Day One...

It didn't take long for me to regret going to work.

It was foggy outside, making it fairly difficult for me to navigate my car through Maplewood, my neighborhood, and out onto the highway. I had a warm basket of goods strapped into the passenger seat, courtesy of Miel, and caught a wiff of chocolate muffins every time I made a hard turn. 

It was cold too, but I had spared no time to grab a set of properly warm clothes, having just thrown on a brown cardigan over the purple suit sent in a bubble wrap case last night.  It had a giant golden embroidery of the Disney logo across the entirety of the chest, which popped out a little and brushed against the inside of my arm every once in a while.

Other than the suit's incredibly annoying features, I had to admit it made me look pretty snazzy. Even pulling my hair into a lazy bun did nothing to waver the distinct sharpness I had to me, if anything it only gave it some extra spice. Not to mention the golden metal name tag placed on my left chest pocket, which read,

𝕃𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝔸𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕟

But this was no time to be gawking at my outfit.
No, at the moment I was about 30 minutes away from Walt Disney Co. Only a 10 minute walk from my encounter at the studio. The real problem was only a fraction revealed at this point, and who knows how he'll react when I walk into his office.

I don't even want to think about it.

Now it was about 20 minutes of a car ride, and my music was getting dull. I reached over and swiped my fingers over the controls, automatically switching to my other Spotify playlist, which immediately played Cabinet Man.
I made a sharp right, causing my basket of goods to wobble dangerously toward the edge of the seat and I quickly leaned over to grab it, praying that the blurry headlights in front of me were just my imagination.
They were not.

I bounced back up as quickly as I had leaned down, shoving the wheel to the right against the blaring sound of honking and screeching wheels with all my strength.
I stopped merely a few inches in front of a tree, breathing hard.

𝘞𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭, I thought, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭.

I flicked my windshield wipers on, cursing myself for not having them on in the first place, and turned the music fully down with a scowl.

10 minutes.

A few painful moments later, I was pulling into a giagantic parking lot, passing about three unnecessary arches and engraved Disney quotes on a large wall that blocked my view of the actual building. While finding a free space, I realized I was poor.

Compared to the million dollar cars that were perched neatly in organized lines, glistening in the sun like a baby fresh from the womb in every available spot, my white Nissan with a 'shit happens' bumper sticker on the back left was not looking all too good.
But then again, where would it?

I wasn't about to let some snotty rich folks who profit off of entertaining younger snotty children get to me. Instead, I squished myself between two convertibles, struggling to open my door and walk around the outside for my basket.

I also snatched a badge that I'd left under the seat, another courtesy of Miel.

With all my items in tow, I blinked against the sun and trecked forward.