The World

Some days I just hate the world and what it does to me -- or almost does to me, which, if you think about it, is not nothing because it doesn't happen, but is instead almost as bad as it actually happening because it makes you react to what could have happened and steals precious time out of your life that you'll never get back. Like that sentence, which you will probably have to re-read because you think it's a run-on sentence when it isn't; it's grammatically proper.

Some days, it feels like things are running against me. Today, it almost made me want to call in sick and stay under the covers at home. But instead, I dragged my depressed-Monday ass out of bed, braved my sniffles and shivers and several near-accidents along the way, and stepped into the office at work ... only to recall that, this past weekend, I had brought my laptop home.

And suddenly, I realize that I shouldn't have been brave, and life would have been a lot peachier if I just cowardly (and soothingly) stayed in bed for another few hours, rested up, and then came into the office when I was feeling a little bit better.