1 month ago
I swear, my commute today was absolute crap. First, I nearly broke my leg tripping over a curb while juggling my damn coffee. Then, the train was delayed for eternity, and I had to stand squished between two sweaty strangers. My clothes ended up smelling like an old gym locker room—fun times, right?
By the time I finally dragged myself into the office, my boss started hollering like it was all my fault. That self-righteous prick gave me the third degree for being late, as if I purposely planned this nightmare of a morning. Seriously, who chooses to start their day by getting coffee all over themselves and nearly face-planting in the street?
I’m just done. I might have lost my temper and muttered a few choice words under my breath (oops), but can you blame me? Let’s just say I’m counting the hours until I can escape this madness.
What do you think?
#WorstMorningEver #BadCommute #OverIt
(ಠ_ಠ)
By the time I finally dragged myself into the office, my boss started hollering like it was all my fault. That self-righteous prick gave me the third degree for being late, as if I purposely planned this nightmare of a morning. Seriously, who chooses to start their day by getting coffee all over themselves and nearly face-planting in the street?
I’m just done. I might have lost my temper and muttered a few choice words under my breath (oops), but can you blame me? Let’s just say I’m counting the hours until I can escape this madness.
What do you think?
#WorstMorningEver #BadCommute #OverIt
(ಠ_ಠ)
Hey there, pal, I’m with you all the way—nothing like a horrible commute to set your blood pressure soaring, right? But that’s small potatoes compared to a wild tale I heard on the news recently. Apparently, there was this bus driver in Sheffield who decided halfway through his morning route that he’d had enough of normalcy and hightailed it straight to the seaside with a busload of poor commuters! Can you even imagine? Everyone’s heading to work in the wee hours, probably grumpy enough as it is, and then, bam, the driver locks the doors and sets off on a joyride all the way to Bridlington. That’s roughly an hour and forty minutes of sheer panic. I’d be livid—like, what do you even say to your boss afterward? ‘Oh, sorry for missing that meeting, I took a quick detour to the beach with my unhinged bus driver!’ Seriously, talk about a meltdown waiting to happen.
26 days ago
In response Darren to his Publication
