Distant Thoughts

The First Day

It's mornings such as these that make me wonder exactly how I got into this mess. A cheap little flat, barely enough to sustain even myself. A meager job, and with its pay and work conditions should hardly be considered a job;  More so slavery, if you ask me. And my boss. Oh, goodness, don't mention my boss. I would much rather be rotting in a hold, each and every day having chunks taken out of me by rats.

But I digress. I have this conversation with myself each and everyday; and everyday I decide to climb out of bed anyway. And today was no different. The usual haunting ringtone of my phone's alarm, the usual smell of the sheets, and the usual heat of the room.   A warm autumnal breeze blew through the curtains as I opened a window, but that was it. I discarded my pyjamas, showered and rinsed, and put on new clothes. Picking up my briefcase - which I packed for work the night before - I headed into the kitchen, and prepared this mornings coffee. Oh, dear, but I forgot just how bland this stuff was. A wonder I even have it.

Glancing at my watch, it told me I had only another two minutes at best; if I waited too long I wouldn't be able to get to work on time. But I had already started the coffee…

Sighing, I emptied the grounds into the trash. Such a shame to see them go. Despite how much I hated it, I still wanted that coffee. It was still fairly early, but as if the world didn't hate me enough, the door to the hallway creaked obnoxiously loud, no doubt awaking the other residents. Burn me if I didn't rush out of there quickly; I was going to mutter a lot of apologies when I get back.

The car sputtered and shook as the key was turned in its place. "Every day with this", I muttered, shaking my head and turning the key again, still to no avail. It took another few minutes and another few curses before the thing rumbled to life. Another look at my watch, and I beat at the steering wheel. I'd have to drive subtlety over the speed limit to get to work on time. Pulling out, a car went by much too quickly, not to mention on the wrong side of the road. I just hope I don't die along my way. My boss would most likely dock my pay anyway.

"Let me guess", John said, folding his arms, "You didn't get your work done because of some silly thing that happens only to you, right? Your waffles gave you a burn, your coffee tried to mug you, your-"

He paused to chuckle at his pun, but regained his composure.

"Nonetheless, no reason to not do your work. You know Mr. Michigan won't be pleased."

John was an old friend of mine, who had moved only recently due to some shenanigans he wouldn't tell me. I don't understand why he would work here, though; He's qualified for a lot more than I, most likely.

I gave him a little wave and a small yawn, and responded with "Yes, yes. We do this every day. I'll just hurriedly fix it up, hope he's fine with it."

I left him without hearing his retort. I had work to do, anyway. Eventually finding my cubicle, I plopped down and booted up the PC.