365 Days (Part 1) | ✓

182. Complain

182. Complain: Write about your complaints about something.

Today (insert sigh here) has been one of those days. It started out like that: My alarm clock failed to wake me up, to begin with. It's probably broken, adding it to the disturbingly long list of necessary appliances I must somehow find a way to fix on my starving college student budget.

Then it was bitterly cold outside, and my warmest coat still had soda stains from when my clumsy brother spilled pepsi on me the night before. Risking function for fashion, I chose a lighter jacket and practically froze to death waiting in traffic, my ancient car's heater struggling valiantly to combat the New York winter.

I was late for class, not that my permanently deadpanning professor or my fellow students, with their equally unsmiling faces, cared in the least. My presentation didn't go so well, and my joks fell flat. I was ready to go home, curl up, and sleep until I reached a better day by that point.

But I had to rush to work, even though it didn't do me good and I was still late. After being yelled at furiously by my boss, I assumed my forgettable position as cashier at the run-down Wal-Mart. Maybe other people were having bad days too, because no one smiled or was friendly. Or maybe my own grumpiness gave them residual attitudes.

It was late by the time I was able to leave, and since I had arrived late, I had skipped dinner. Even knowing this was a luxury I couldn't afford, I still went to my favorite cafe, which was charmingly located within an eclectic bookstore. Even the ticket came out wrong. It showed the items I had chosen as costing nothing. I didn't want to find out later I had accidentally paid for thirty grilled chicken sandwiches instead of one due to this computer glitch, so I had to wait in line again to alert the worker manning the counter -- I had known him briefly in high school, but couldn't remember his name.

"Sir," I said politely but tiredly (it felt strange to call someone my age Sir), "There's been a mistake on my receipt."

"Oh?" He smiled a little. Ugh, peppy people.

"Yes." I showed him the document.

"It says I wasn't charge for anything," I explained, as he didn't seem to keen on examining the slip of paper.

He grinned wildly. "I know. I didn't charge you for your meal. You looked like you needed a little-pick-me-up,"

Oh my gosh. I stared at him.

And then smiled back.

*

A/N: Complain? I can't complain today. We hit 5k reads yesterday, folks! Thank you SO much for reading my prattle. It means so much. <3

Hey, also, I entered 365 Days into the Wattys. I figured I might as well. ;)