Another Day, Another Hell

The city smells like refuse again this morning. My stomach feels like I swallowed a lead balloon; bloated, nauseated, heavy. The wafting scent of dumpster isn't helping me much in the battle against vomiting. But, I've got to find coffee somewhere. That's the first step to feeling moderately bearable. Despite the fact that I woke up moments before I stepped off the train, I still have the presence of mind to try for someplace, anyplace but Starbucks. I imagine myself a hero for the small business owner and for groggy people around the country, "fighting for your choice in morning coffee". I discover my new breaktime hangout. They're independent, they're friendly, and their list of veggie sandwiches is as long as my arm. My only regret is holding this scone instead of a nice bagel. I'm not much for sweets, but I'm hoping the food will calm my churning innards. That is, if I can bring myself to eat it.

I get to the office and realize that I've forgotten my key. I can see the red-haired admin inside the reception area, so I knock on the window. She's oblivious. My office, off to the side, usually has one woman in it who never unlocks the door or turns on the lights. So, I knock on that window, thinking that if she's in there and she doesn't answer, I'm going to give her a piece of my mind. She irritates me anyhow. Eventually, I am rescued from my lost-puppy look in the hallway and someone opens the door. There's nobody here in the office. When I check the calendar, it looks like I'm going to be the only one in my department today.

Soon, I think that Mexican woman is going to come. She sells tamales and burritos door-to-door in the building. The same woman used to do the same thing in my last building, the one I was in before I changed jobs. There are only tamales on Friday though. They cost half as much as the burritos, but she knows I'll buy. I always buy, if she's got something vegetarian. But, since she knows I'll always buy, she always brings something vegetarian. She even extends me credit, because I rarely carry cash.

Cash...that's right. I need to get some so I can pay my bills...I need to call my storage and tell them not to auction off my furniture. I have a lot of crap to do today. My stomach doesn't think apricot scones are a good idea.