F o r t y - t w o

I woke up to a drilling, coming from outside.

This one of the few reasons I hated the city. There was no respect for sleep. Even on weekends, you'd hear honking, crashing, drilling, pounding, you name it. They better fix whatever they were attempting to fix, or I was going to send a very angry letter to the city. Why can't it start after nine in the morning, when the rush hour and everyone else is already at their jobs.

I groaned and stood in front of the mirror. At least my skin looked decent, no pimples or, oh wait, there was one right on my left cheek, I could poke it now but if I did it wrong I could anger the thing and double its size. I'll just apply make-up over it and forget about the darn thing. Apparently, today too was going to be bad, I felt like a zombie, even after my first coffee. I dressed like I felt, gray colors and dark shades. Even the girls at work avoided me, no friendly talk, no gossip. All I wanted to do was be done and go back to bed, go back