ONE OF THOSE DAYS
Did you ever have one of those days? You know the kind I’m talking about. You wake up ten minutes before you’re supposed to leave because you forgot to set the alarm, again. Run in to take the fastest shower of your life and there’s no hot water because you forgot to pay the water bill, again. Then you throw on mostly clean clothes you pick up off the floor because you didn’t have time to do laundry, again. You run a brush through your hair, pull a hat over your head because it’s just that bad, brush your teeth with baking soda because you’re out of toothpaste, then run out the door already late, just to realize the gas tank is on empty. Yeah, you forgot to get gas, again.
Well, I was having one of those days. Glancing at the clock on the dash, I willed the pump to work faster as I grudgingly surrendered the last of the money in my checking account to the gas pump. Looks like a Ramon Noodle at my desk kind of day.
“Could this day get any worse?” I blink. Did I just say that out loud! “No, no, no ... I didn’t mean it! I take it back!”
Looking up at the cloudless sky, and then around the busy gas station, I purse my lips. Did anyone hear that? Everything is still and quiet, as if nothing had happened. Taking a deep breathe, I relax. Waiting my turn to pull out, I glance at the mirror attached to the visor above me.
Mascara is smudged under my eye, making me look as if I’ve been sucker punched. I look around the car for something to wipe it off with before it dries. Nothing. Gently I rub it with my little finger. My finger slips, making a bigger, darker mess than before.
Now, I have a smear of mascara under my eye. Desperately, I try rubbing it. My efforts only succeed in making it worse. Finally I just sigh, today is definitely one of those days.
I arrive at my office, twenty minutes late. Maybe no one will notice. If I’m lucky, my boss will be late too. I mean, I can’t be the only one the universe is against today. Can I? I park in the company lot, then hurry in the back way.
“What the mphhfft!”
I cringe at the sound of the voice coming from the other side of the door. In my hurry to slip in unnoticed, I had inadvertently hit someone with the door. The door is pulled the rest of the way open from the other side. It’s my boss, Harold.
“I’m so sorry, Harold,” I say sincerely.
“You’re late, again,” he states crossly.
“I know, I …” I search my brain for a good excuse, but my brain is on pause.
“What happened to you!?” Stacey exclaims from the other side of the room.
“Is that a black eye?” Janet asks with concern, crossing the room with Stacey.
“What? No.” I cautiously edge through the door into the break room with Janet and Stacey hot on my heels, barking concerned questions.
Harold gives me a no-nonsense appraisal. “Put your things away, then meet me in my office.”
Today is definitely one of those days.