Bad Day

Being a runner is really a lot harder than they let on in the magazines.

I tried running in my old sneakers yesterday morning. When I was done my legs felt very tired, a new sensation for me. So I called in to work because I decided I needed a day of reflection to process the new feeling. Donny picked up. When I told him my plans, he said, "We're totally short and Clarissa's not back 'til Monday. You got to come in." And then, I don't know, I told Donny that he was insensitive and that I thought his mother might be a whore and that he, therefore, could well be the son of whoredom. Then Bill got on the line and told me I had to come in. So that was that. When I got in Donny came right over to my station, stuck his finger into the soft part of my chest, and told me that if I ever said something like that again he would "fucking kill me." After that happened I mostly played with my keys at my station until lunch. Then I went into the good lavatory to try to regroup. God was with me, because while people kept coming in, for some reason they didn't stay. I had the place to myself for nearly 45 minutes until the cleaning crew arrived and I had to get up off the floor.