

When he woke up, he heard the alarm buzzing harshly in his ear. He threw his arm out wildly, hoping to connect with the snooze button. He didn't. When the glass shattered against the hard metal floor, he shuddered and pushed himself off of the pillow, his tough arms tensing up from the strain. The cold shower barely woke him up, but he trudged on towards the kitchen anyway. Work wasn't going to wait for him. 

He drove himself to the same office building he's driven to for eight years, and he cursed under his breath every time he realized the industrial park hadn't burned down. There was always tomorrow, though. Every evening when he left the building, he left papers lying about in a very disorganized way, that way they'd catch fire more easily. Little passive aggressive things like this were his specialty, but he barely even noticed them any more. 

"Hey Dave, late again, eh?" said a coworker snidely.
"Piss off, Anthony, I don't wanna hear it."

Dave continued down the hallway and watched Linda, the fat secretary munching away at what was probably her third donut of the day. Linda usually ate her way through a 12-pack of donuts before lunch, before heading over to McDonald's for a few dozen burgers and a trunkload of fries. The fact that she was still alive was a surprise to everyone, but they all pretended to like her anyway. 

Dave was exhausted, but he pushed on to his desk and picked up the next manuscript he had to edit for his boss. Of course she got all the credit, but he did 90 percent of the work. All that for his barely minimum wage salary was enough for him to want to blow his brains out, or burn the building down. He was waiting for the right time to make his big exit and quit but it never seemed to be the right time, because the bills were constantly piling up on him. Were it not for this job, he'd be back on the streets, so to speak. That is to say that he would be forced to move in with his parents living in the wealthy area of Greenwich, CT. Were it not for the security blanket of his parents' wealth, he'd have been on the streets, but that seems hardly relevant anymore at this point. 

He headed home early on purpose every day; he said it was to beat the traffic but that was just a nice excuse. A nice excuse that was getting him closer and closer to getting fired every single day. He didn't even care at this point, what with mommy and daddy to fund everything anyway, what was the purpose of working hard? And with that, he drove off into the sunset, ready to take on any challenge that faced him with lukewarm enthusiasm.

