The Bad Day

A Story by AriV

We all have those days when everything seems to be going wrong and nothing appears to be going right.

I started the day off on the wrong foot, as they say.

After having meticulously set my alarm the night before to 6:30 a.m. sharp, I ended up sleeping through it and waking up thirty minutes later instead. The time stared at me maliciously in big red numbers as my eyes shot wide open, and I sprang from the comforts of my bed and Egyptian cotton sheets, and ran to the bathroom, attempting to get ready for work as fast as I possibly could.

There was no time for make up or fixing my pillow hair, so I just ran a comb quickly through the thick strands that framed my face, and got dressed, grabbing the first clothes I could find hanging from the mess that was my closet.

I shared an apartment with my older brother, who was already in the kitchen making breakfast for himself.

“Oh, you’re still here,” he said when he noticed me running in, “Care for some coffee?”

I glanced past him and quickly grabbed a piece of toast sitting in the toaster.

“No, I don’t want your f*****g coffee,” I told him as I pushed my way past him and out the door.

I knew it was irrational for me to take my anger out on my brother who had nothing to do with the s****y morning I was having, but that’s the thing about anger, when it takes over, you have no control over it or who you direct it to.

It turns out the piece of toast I had grabbed was burnt, so I ended up eating burnt toast and spilling the crumbs all over my work suit which was wrinkled and needed a good dry cleaning job.

I tried to calm myself down on the ride to work, but it felt like the Universe was against me today, playing a cruel joke on me. There was a traffic jam that I could have easily avoided had I left my house thirty minutes earlier, my usual time. I sat in the car, staring at the clock in the dashboard, telling me I was late for work, mocking me for the day I was having.

“S**t,” I said as I sank my head down on the steering wheel and tried breathing, in and out. When that didn’t work I tried to turn up the music and started singing along to songs I didn’t know the lyrics to, eventually giving up.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity and a half, I found myself at the parking lot of the familiar office building. Jerry, my boss who I secretly despised, was waiting for me.

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” he said through perfectly white teeth.

I clenched my own and willed my hands into fists, trying to control the annoyance I felt at him. Sitting in my desk, I could feel the beats of perspiration as my anger took a physical toll on me. I was exhausted and trying to control my breaths so that they would come out even. Instead, I was breathing quickly, without pausing.

“You know,” Jerry added, “We don’t need mediocre people in this work force. We have simple rules that people follow, and if they don’t, they get cut, simple as that.”

That was the last straw, I could not take it any more. I stood up, and turned to face him, our noses were so close they could almost touch. The only sound in the room was the sound of my rapid breaths, coming in and out.

“You know what, Jerry? Go f**k yourself. I quit this s****y job. I quit this s****y life, actually. I. . .am. . .f*****g. . .done. You hear me? D-O-N-E.”

Throwing the most important contents of the desk into my purse I quickly turned and made my way out of the office, middle finger held high, smiling for the first time in the course of that day.

© 2011 AriV

Author's Note

I don't typically write angry stories, but this came from an inspiration I got from a contest with this particular theme. I just sort of...wrote. So, here it is, take it for whatever it is. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated.