BAD DAY

You wake up and go to work. You have nothing to do so you sit in your cubicle surfing the internet. Everytime a new e-mail arrives you frantically open up outlook only to find a notice that thursday is Office Refrigerator Clean-out day. You try chatting online with other working friends yet they're all busier than you are. They don't respond immediately to your requests and you take that personally. 3 hours has gone by and you haven't actually talked with anyone. You sit there alone and are forced to think about your life.

Working out at lunch usually gives you release as you listen to music while physically squeezing some of the saved-up agression out of your body. But today your mp3 player decided to fuck up and not play properly so you were forced to listen to the grunts and panting of sweaty, old men and fat women trying to use the leg press machine.

Fuming with anger you walk, no, run back to the office in the rain and get in the elevator with 5 other people- who all happen to be going to various floors below yours. You're pissed for all of these things, yet you smile at the elderly secretary as you see her leaving the lunchroom. After you sit back down in your chair and log back onto your computer you see that no new e-mail and no new instant messages have accumulated in your absence. You want to go to sleep. You spend the next moments looking for suitable quotes to put on your website until your eyes begin to hurt. You go to the bathroom.

No one contacts you for the remainder of the day. You leave early and scowl at everyone you see on your way out. In the elevator you remove your belt and outer shirt and stuff them into your backpack. Walking home you feel insecure, like every passing car contains at least two people who are joking with each other at your expense.

You're angry at yourself.