Amanda Krumme Amanda Krumme
Recommendations: 18

The way you write this is perfect. I do this, I do that, blah blah blah. Drab and dreary- which is exactly how the character seems to feel about life.

Warren Gates Warren Gates
Recommendations: 23

This is an eclectic selection of complaints!

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Alex Makridakis Alex Makridakis
Recommendations: 6

A Day In the Life


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She had a friend.

God I'm sick of this all this.


I wake up in my bed. My alarm clock blaring music from a radio station. Which one? Does it matter? It's all noise to me. I feel my body getting itself off of my expensive mattress onto the tasteful carpet of my room. I don't even notice my wife anymore. I am now in the shower. I don't remember when I started moving to the bathroom. I just stand there for a couple of minutes. My wife knocks, tells me to stop wasting the hot water. More noise. I get out of the shower. I walk downstairs. I eat my toast. I kiss my wife. I drive to work. 1 comment


I find my existence nauseating.


I enter the office. I could describe what it looks like, but I long ago stopped paying attention to the colour of the walls, the shitty interchangeable motivational messages accompanied by animal pictures, even where my cubicle is. I can't even remember the layout of this hell. My mind is a blank, and the next thing I know, I'm at my computer.


I don't even know what I do here. I just hit the buttons. Just like the jerk behind me. The bitch in front of me. The sheep to my left and right. We all feed the machines precious data. Seconds turn to minutes. Minutes turn to hours. For all I know, I could have been sitting here for years.


My body takes itself out of my cubicle. It walks to the elevator. I am now on the roof. I look over the edge at the cars. They look like ants from up here. They even behave like them, moving from place to place with no important objective other than caring for their parasite families.


I arrive at my home. My wife asks how my day was. I tell her it was ok. I can't even tell if I'm lying anymore. I watch TV for hours. My wife tells me that dinner is ready. We eat without talking. I go to bed. I still haven't done anything since I got out of bed.


I don't dream anymore.


I wake up in my bed. For all I know I'm still asleep. I'm in my car. I'm at work. I'm on the roof. I'm home.


I wake up in my bed. When did my wife become so ugly? This car handles like shit. This computer has a virus. The air on the roof gives me the chills. This dinner tastes like roadkill. 1 comment


I wake up in my bed. How did I get on the roof so fast?


I wake up in my bed. I jump.


I don't wake up this time.


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