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The Perfect Storm

6/13/2019

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The Perfect Storm, The day had a wonderfully awful beginning. Let’s take a moment to appreciate that phrase because it seems to be the only phrase to carry my sarcasm through writing. The amount of ill feelings I felt by the time work ended was weighing me down in every sense. Physical, emotional and mental breakdowns were on the way.
The day had a wonderfully awful beginning. Let’s take a moment to appreciate that phrase because it seems to be the only phrase to carry my sarcasm through writing. The amount of ill feelings I felt by the time work ended was weighing me down in every sense. Physical, emotional and mental breakdowns were on the way.
​The day began with a breakfast you would think was prepared in the gutter. It was cold, under-cooked and to make matters worse it was entirely my fault. How hard is it to boil an egg? With that question I further emphasise the stupid-state I was in upon climbing out of bed and I didn’t escape this state until I broke the coffee machine at work.

A wonderful contraption which I so sorely hoped would provide me with comfort after the taxi driver overcharged me. As relaxing as it was to go around a block three times, I feel that if I had noticed during instead of after the drive I might have made a bit of a scene. Nevertheless, there was no comfort from the coffee machine, only a spluttering of hot, black liquid which speckled my white shirt, staining it and probably my skin beneath it.

Walking ever so carefully back to my cubicle, I sat down and examined my coffee-flavoured tattoo. The day was grim and grey, much like my personality after all this trouble. However, rain and thunder seemed to be holding back to let loose a bigger torrent of abuse from mother nature. Lightning very rarely did something damaging to company property and it seemed to be the day for rare events.

While my computer slowly booted up, lighting had stuck something in the building which sent an electrical discharge straight for my desktop. I’m fortunate my monitor didn’t exploded and pelt me with hot glass, but the machine itself did bang and catch fire. I was shocked, pun intended, by what had happened, so I simply stared at the fire for a few seconds.

Once the fire had broken through my mental lapse, I leapt into action. Reading safety rules off the wall as I ran, I soon reached the fire extinguisher while the rest of my co-workers gathered around to watch. Now, a fire extinguisher is wonderfully simple to use. However, this one was old and now faulty. Not being up to code, I shouldn’t have been surprised when foam came out as spray of weak liquid at first.

Like an in-experienced cop, I decided to look down the barrel of this weapon. Examining the nozzle, I didn’t notice anything stuck inside it, but the misfortune which over me like a cloud smiled a sinister smile and gave the fire extinguisher a second chance at life. Yes, I was hit with a frothy cloud which covered my face like a cream pie.

Still alert, I aimed the extinguisher at the machine and began to douse the flames. With that task complete I was applauded, but at the same time, teased for my strange appearance. Apparently, with fluffy white face and bloack sputtering on my white shirt, I looked like a snowman made by an unskilled child. With this comparison being fairly accurate, I couldn’t help but smile and laugh for the first time that day.

My good humour still existed, but my luck had long since left the building. There were no spare machines in this department, so, since the receptionist had to call in ill, I used her computer in the lobby. Sitting there at first I felt fairly comfortable. The lobby was pretty and quiet. Papers were stacked messily under the desk, so I paid heed and made sure not to knock them over. Even the computer itself ran better than my own.

However, by the time I had finally settled down into my work, too much time had been wasted on filing reports on the malfunction of the coffee machine and my computer. An hour of work means nothing in this business, so in order to save myself the next day, I stayed over-time.

Apparently, my stupid state returned in force as I didn’t realize the power was shut down to unessential systems half-an-hour past closing time. The reception desktop just happened to fall into the unessential category, so in a depressingly sudden flick of a switch, my work was extinguished.

I left for home feeling empty, wondering why I even got out of bed. The day had come to an end, misfortune seemed to be taking a break as well. Despite the heavy rainfall, I was able to make my way into a taxi and then back into my apartment building before becoming completely soaked.
I opened the door to my apartment, closed the door and yelled with a pained groan. 

“What’s up?” I heard my girlfriend call.

“You don’t want to know, but some healing is needed,” I replied simply and she understood.

“There is some chocolate mousse in the fridge.”

With that token of information, I pulled the fridge door open, collected an assortment of sweet treats, mousse included. Despite mousse being the recommendation, the beer wasn’t exactly useless either.

Joining her on the couch, I handed her some of the chocolate mousse and closed my eyes as I eased back into the couch.

“So, tell me about what happened?” she asked me as the TV showed us some simple, slapstick movie. “Don’t tell me it was worse than the eggs you made this morning.”

“You what, I would like to think the eggs were the highlight of the morning,” I replied. “Hand me the remote. Let’s watching something actually funny while I tell you all about it.”

She handed me a small piece of plastic and rubber, I pressed the next channel button only for the screen to flash three times and the language to change from English to what I could only identify as Italian.

“I didn’t even know it could do that,” I murmured as my girlfriend slowly plucked the remote control from my hands.

“Yeah, I don’t think you need to tell me how bad your day was. I’m getting the picture already.”

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The Perfect Storm, The day had a wonderfully awful beginning. Let’s take a moment to appreciate that phrase because it seems to be the only phrase to carry my sarcasm through writing. The amount of ill feelings I felt by the time work ended was weighing me down in every sense. Physical, emotional and mental breakdowns were on the way.
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