I’m an easy going guy. When my 6 am wake up call rolls around, I hop up for my workout. A nice five mile run to start my morning always seemed like a good idea until I got to mile 5. Post workout, the only thing on my mind is my cup of coffee.
I made my way back up the elevator and to my apartment on the thirty-second floor of my New York City high rise. When I get on the elevator on the 12th floor where the gym is, there was a little boy on there who I had seen around the building before. I stepped onto the elevator, pressed the 32 button, then took a step back from the door. The little boy then proceeded to run his hand down every single button on the elevator. Now it will make a stop at every. floor. Until I get to my floor. I was so frustrated with the kid and looked over to him and said“why’d you do that!?”, but the door opened, and he ran off at the 13th floor. I would have taken the stairs if I hadn’t just ran 5 miles before I got on there.
Many stops later, I made it to the 32nd floor. I walked over to my coffee maker, and was ready to have what I had been looking for since I got up that morning. Every night, I get the coffee ready to make and it starts automatically when I leave for the gym. This morning though, the coffee hadn't started! I was so frustrated. I was already running late from the kid on the elevator, so I decided I would run to a coffee shop on the way to work instead.
I started my morning off well with a good workout, and the only thing wrong was that the kid on the elevator, and my coffee not making like it was supposed to. I was determined to have a good day, despite not starting out on the best foot. I hopped in the shower, brushed my teeth, the put on my white shirt, blue suit, and brown leather shoes. I brushed my hair up with a little spike in the front, grabbed my bag, and made my way downstairs to the parking garage.
My red sports car is my favorite thing, and there’s not much in my life that it can’t fix. I remember being so young and always dreaming about owning this car. It stays in the parking garage downstairs because I only take it out on the weekends. Never would I drive it on the busy streets of New York on a regular day of the week. Before leaving the building for my day, I walk past it, tap the hood, and make my way to the street to walk to work. It’s a short walk, and I stay on 5th avenue the whole time.
I stopped at a coffee shop on the way to work. The largest, darkest, boldest coffee they have is what I go for each day. Whether I make it or not. Anyways, as I walk out of the coffee shop, a younger man bumped into my arm. It made me spill the steaming hot coffee all down my freshly dry-cleaned shirt. I was so frustrated. What else could go wrong today?
Then, on the way to the office, I have to stop at my apartment to get a different white button down, and drop this one off at the dry cleaner.
I am finally to the office and it's already 10:00. My assistant, lets me know of my meetings for the day. Nothing I can’t handle. The day at work seemed to go by fairly easily. No big bumps in the road, or things that made my day very difficult. About 6:00, I got ready to go back home. I was looking forward going out tonight with some friends, especially since the day had been so long. I stopped at the dry cleaner on the way home, just for them to tell me that they ruined my shirt and turned it pink. I was furious. It was such an expensive shirt, and I really didn’t have time for them to be ruining it.
I walk out of the dry cleaners empty handed, and frustrated. My walk back to the building was leisure, but I didn’t have much time before going out. As I walk through the garage before going to my apartment, I tap the hood of my red sports car, like always, just to see that someone who parked next to me had bumped their door into the side and dented it. This. Was. Unacceptable. I throw my hands up with no idea what to do, and just said “forget it! I’ll buy a new one.” I had always said that there wasn’t much that the car couldn’t fix, but I never thought about what I’d have to do if I had to fix the car.
It was time to go out. Me and the guys, 5 of us total, for Mexican. I was excited. Nothing could go wrong in just walking a few blocks. When we got to dinner, it was nice to sit down, but not thing of all the bad things that happened in my day. I ordered my food, 2 chicken enchiladas with extra rice and beans. I don’t run 5 miles every morning to eat like a little girl.
I walked back to my apartment after dinner. Content with my Mexican, but still frustrated with my day. Once I got off the elevator in my building, I was ready to go to bed because the day had been so long. When I went to brush my teeth, I leaned over to grab a towel and dropped my toothbrush in the toilet! No chance of using that again.
I walked over to my bed, picked up my dog, and turned on the TV...just to find out that my Netflix account password had been changed. What a day it had been. And what a bad one at that.