Just Another Night in Hamletville





I’m running late for work.


Literally running.

And panting.

And sweating.


This is the third time this week.

I’ve already had to apologize profusely to my supervisor, Jeromy, for my lack of punctuality twice. Both times, he’d been highly disgruntled about my lateness, and both times, I told him it wouldn’t happen again.

That was yesterday and the day before that.

Yet, here I am, sprinting to work once more.

Jeez, I can’t believe I overslept so much. He’ll have my neck for sure this time, I just know it.

I felt even more tired waking up than I did going to sleep last night, so a nap before work was non-negotiable if I was going to have any semblance of coherence whatsoever during my shift today.

Obviously, that plan didn’t exactly work out.


And it’s all because of that stupid dream.

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