Hating Work Made Me Late

It’s Monday. I know, I’m sorry I reminded you. But mine is worse than your’s, hear me out. I woke up today like a usual normal day. (You know, hating the fact that I had to go to work). I did not want to get up at all, so I stayed in bed to an unreasonable time. The thought of going to work made me want to vomit all over myself.

But I got up as soon as I calculated that I had enough time to make it to work even though I stayed in bed as long as I could. I made my lunch, changed, and was in my car maybe five minutes later, if that’s not a world record I don’t know what is.

But get this. THIS was a sign from God. Or destiny or faith or what ever her name is. (Back story info: we have a gate that opens automatically at our home). So while I was trying to pull out of the drive way, the gate would not open. I was pressing the button uncontrollably and very aggressively and that didn’t seem to help. I even got off my car to see if pushing it would help. But I have the strength of a week old bunny so of course nothing happened.

As soon as I got back in my car the door magically decided it was time to open. After making me five minutes late and seeing how I was not going to make it to work on time in only ten minutes I decided to just use sick time and go in work two hours later.

A moment of relief came to me. No work for two hours, what a blessing. So with my time I decided to go to Starbucks because I’m basic as hell. And I wanted to work on my next YouTube video. So check that out.

The time has come though, I have to go to hell. I have 30 minutes to get there and I’m going to try to stretch every second that I came so it becomes longer, but at least on the bright side I wont be at work for that long .


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