the next day is a bear

Mostly I wish that the “next day” would never come.

I hate starting the day. I hate waking up, getting up, and going to work. I would not mind at all if it just didn’t happen.

But it always does.

And I get to work and something new and bad has happened – again.

Good things don’t happen to me. My co-workers think my work-spot, or maybe my chair, is cursed.

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