string bean | wilbur soot

1

          I wake up to the chorus of Song for a Guilty Sadist by Crywank, a heartwrenching song indeed, blasting at full volume; my alarm for work. I sigh, snoozing the alarm. One snooze turned into two. Two turned into three. Three turned into me dismissing my alarm completely. I don't want to get up. I'll just lay here for a few minutes... or 50, maybe.

          Eventually, though, my roommate, Elena, burst into my bedroom. "Come on! Up! Let's go!" she shouted at me, turning the light on. "You're gonna be late for work. Then you'll get fired and I'll have to find a better roommate."

          "I'll call in sick," I mumble, pulling my boring navy blue covers over my head. "It'll be fine."

          "Vee, you called in sick yesterday. And the day before that."

          I groaned. She was right, unfortunately. "Okay," I said. "Give me a second."

          Elena nodded, walking out of my room, leaving my door open behind her. I sigh, looking at the time on my phone. 8:31 am. That isn't too bad. That gives me 29 minutes to get ready and get to work. I pull my shirt over my head as I get out of bed, throwing it on the floor and replacing it with my red work shirt. I put a new pair of jeans on as well. I think I left my nametag in my car... If not, oh well. 

          I don't think I have enough time to eat my usual breakfast, so I grab a Poptart and head out the door. Sure, Poptarts aren't great, but they're good when I don't have a lot of time in the morning. As I'm walking out of my apartment complex, I see my neighbor, Jeremy. I hope he doesn't see me as I walk to my car, but he does.

          "Hey, Vicki! What's up?" he shouts. He's standing there with his dog on a leash in one hand, and a small plastic bag in the other, waiting for it to do its business.

          "Not much, just... going to work," I chuckle awkwardly. I'm not great at talking to people, which isn't a great personality trait for a Target cashier, but no one's complained about it yet. "I've really gotta get going, too. So..."

          "I understand! Have fun!" he smiled at me.

          The last thing I thought before I got in my car was: who the fuck tells someone to have fun at work?