Short Story

The idea that every morning at 6:30 my alarm goes off makes me angry. Angry enough to moan, groan and cus. Why the hell am I doing this? Why the hell am I forcing myself to observe this lifelong ritual of rousing myself from a perfectly comfortable sleep and splashing water on my face and putting a goo on my teeth. Looking in the mirror and muttering "this is bullshit" seems to be the common response to what I see.

Coffee, that will do it, that will take all this evil and force it out of me with hot delicious liquid. The caffeine will take all this self loathing and morning hate and replace it with little brown beeds of joy. Fuck that didn't work. Oh well. I turn on the today show and hope that the hot weather girl with the huge jugs is wearing something low cut today, that should help. Of course she never disappoints, she steps out in front of the 5-day forecast in a tight white shirt with a short black skirt. I really don't care if she knows anything about the weather, she makes it OK to wake up with the delightful things she wears. Her presence is a short reprieve, and its back to Meredith Viera talking about some bullshit.

I can't wait though the clock is hitting zero hour, and I need to get out the door and on my way. I take the subway now, I'm trying to be green and save some cash, but if all were equal I would rather sit in traffic in my own car. I like to listen to my own radio, I don't really enjoy the smell of the bum next to me and a car is more comfortable, it's a fact. But, I do what I must and park my car at the subway stop, walk the 300 yards to the tube and make my way down.

There is constantly a wind down there. CONSTANTLY. I always wonder why but never follow up on it, I'm tired and when it comes down to it, I don't give a shit. As the train pulls up I make my way to the front to ensure that I get a seat. I used to not care about the seat, or i used to give it up for some woman who got on, but not anymore. If I get a seat, I bury my face in a book and enjoy the ride. It's not that I'm rude, I just realize that if the tables were turned not a soul would give up a seat for me. It may be selfish, it is selfish but fuck it I want to read my book and be left alone. I have never spoken to anyone on the subway, never, and I resent those that do. Why are they talking so loud? It is either a couple of kids or some old cackling yentas, don't they know that the subway is a quiet place, a place for reflection?

Finally, 10 pages later i arrive at my stop. Of course mine is the busiest of all the stops, so i have to fight crowds up the stairs, and instead of their being a turn style their is a swarm of cops checking tickets. Shouldn't these people be protecting and serving instead of checking to ensure people are paying $ 1.25 for a one way ticket? It just seems dumb and a waste, but its par for the course in California. Par for the course...

All this to get to my office, unlock the door, turn on the computer and being a day of pushing paper from one place to another. All to earn a buck. It's the trip, the day and the idea that i push myself through all this just to get to a place to work for someone else. To sit at the water cooler and talk about last nights Lost or how the Lakers are doing. It all reminds me I hate traveling, I hate small talk, and the the more I can avoid any of it I do. So I sit at my desk, doing my job, day in and day out...and it all happens again and again