MONDAY

He had a dream he was a narco trafficker.  Everyone was trying to kill him.  He woke up unsettled and stressed.  Walking to work he kept looking behind, still feeling like he was being watched. 

His skin looked tired.  Which really annoyed him.  He just got a peal and should literally look like he is lit from within.

The line for the elevator was long so he had another cig before going up.  He wondered how he was going to get that Dries coat without paying retail.  Hmmm. . .

So many emails.  Why do people even need to email these moronic questions?  Like, use common sense. 

Lunch.  He wanted to eat outside the office but would reading at his computer catching up on the news be better?  Hmmm. . .

He decided to get on linkedin (at work).  F*** it.  He needs a new job, something that is not so damn boring.  He practices his cursive when he has nothing to do, which is always.  Do people even write in cursive anymore? He thought he had read an article. . .

Time to go.  But he doesn’t want to leave without a ‘goodnight’ to his boss.  Where is he?  Ugh.  He always decides to start a project at 6PM.  Like, dude, for real?

The train.  Its stressful all of these people brushing up against him.  Peasants.   Doesn’t anyone have any manners anymore? He wondered why he had to take the train, he should have a car waiting. 

Dinner.  What to eat?  Oh! That girl has a snickers. . .

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