The Origins of a Bad Day

So it all began late last night. I fully intended to give myself plenty of hours sleep. Today was to be a difficult day. Not only had the weather decided to implode and rain cat’s and dog’s shit, I had also picked today, July 7th 2008, to be the day that I, Dan, conquer the Nicotine habit once and for all. No doubt it would be difficult but with enough sleep on board surely I can take anything in my stride!

So, at 11pm last night I decided to stop work and sleep. I found it difficult at first but eventually after, no more than an hour (though it is hard to judge) I dropped off to sleep. But then…..

A scoundrel, a Quisling, a traitorous pustual violated my human rights by taking me by the foot and flying me to an irritating place. A place where all those irritating things happen as daily occurances. Everything is late. If something is on time it’s because it’s actually the previous one but arrived an hour late. The rain constantly falls and the puddles unwittingly find the holes on the bottom of your shoes. Teenagers play music loudly, trays on trains squeeking, annoucers announcing too loudly, cat food in your toes, mouldy milk and other things with enormous statistics of irritating substance!

Then, the gremlin, the cretin, the irritating whore that stole me from my bed returned me and wished me off to sleep. With half an hour’s real sleep under my belt I am greeting by an alarm. A notification that Mr Bad Day is in town and it’s time to meet him.