It’s Monday morning and I’m late, and by late I mean I would arrive on time. I run upstairs and prepare lunch for the day, A nice split pea soup with a bowl of mushroom spaghetti that will make your mouth melt with so much fucking flavor that you won’t know what hit you. I run to the bathroom, take the fastest humanly shower possible, quickly stepped out and fall on my face.
That. Shit. Hurt.
Lera somehow was still sleeping, even Thor was passed out, so I quietly yelled to the heavens for my current pain.
I quickly wrap up my meal, grab my bag, head to the car and drive safely and dangerously fast. I park in Queens and run to the train (immediately out of breath because I’m clearly out of shape).
I take the train and I think I’m home free.
“I’m going to make it!” I tell myself.
As the train goes through the tunnel, it begins slowing down.
“we must be reaching the station,” I say with a nervous voice
The train slows down even more and then,
“Fuck,” I tell myself.
The conductor’s voice is heard throughout the train.
“I’m sorry, but we are going to fuck with your day because we are the MTA and could not give a shit about your current problems. Have fun getting to work where your boss will judge you for being an irresponsible shit bag. Good luck blaming it on us! “
They didn’t actually say that.
But it sure felt like it.
Anyways happy Monday.