Burnt Toast

The terrible, rotten, miserable day

When he got up in the morning he started thinking immediately. It was like he put in a CD into the player of his brain and it was the very same CD every morning. It played the same playlist every single day. It was habitual. The playlist gave him energy to start the day, even though it was negative energy. But it was energy and that is what he needed to jump start his day.

His mind was going a hundred miles an hour even before he finished peeing. He would then bring the morning newspaper inside, scan the top headline then toss it on his kitchen table as he made coffee and began preparing his breakfast. The mental playlist played at top volume the whole time.

He thought about the horrible state of affairs in the world and especially the state of his current government. He thought about how stupid all the people were who were running things. He thought about how much he hated his job and his boss. He fantasized about horrible things happening to his boss. He thought about his upcoming bills and worried about how he was going to pay them. He thought about his ex-girlfriend and what a horrible bitch she was to him. He thought about his bum knee and how mean his body was being to him. He thought about one of his friends who he was convinced was betraying him behind his back. Then he thought some more about politics.

It was not long at all before he had whipped himself into a frenzy of anger. As he sipped his coffee he was now fully awake and brimming with (negative) energy. The thoughts kept gushing through his mind as he cooked his sausage and hash browns and eggs. He got extremely pissed when one of his egg yolks broke in the pan. He got even angrier when he burned his toast.

Sitting at his kitchen table, he opened the newspaper and read all the depressing news as he ate his breakfast. He was only barely aware of eating. Today’s news seemed even more depressing than usual. When he noticed that his food was all eaten he refilled his coffee, lit a cigarette and finished the paper.

He then shaved and took a shower while the onslaught of negative thoughts continued unabated. He was barely aware of the shaving and showering. They were merely perfunctory actions he went through as he continued listening to all his endless negative thoughts.

Finally, he was dressed and ready to go to work. He got in his car full of energy as he drove through frustrating traffic jams. He cursed the other drivers as he thought about how much he hated going to work.

Lo and behold, he had a terrible, rotten, miserable day. That was no surprise, though. After all, that is what he expected.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction. Stories by White Feather

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