Stuck in a Rut

I rolled out of bed begrudgingly. Another boring day at the office awaited me. I found my feet and awaited my motivation. I got ready as usual: same non-nutritional breakfast, same clearance rack clothes and the same phony smile tacked on to my pale cheeks. I looked in the mirror and told myself that I would get my big break soon, just as I did everyday, five days a week for forty-eight weeks a year.
I spent five minutes trying to catch a taxi, which put me five minutes behind my usual late.
“Late again, Parker?” an obnoxious coworker snorted as walked in ten minutes after eight.
“I blame the whole population of New York. Trying to catch a taxi here is like trying to find a clean public restroom at a gas station, impossibly unrealistic.” I retorted with a slight growl and full scowl. These dimwits need me too much to fire me for something as negligible as tardiness. My presence was a gift to them.
I suffered through the day just to go home and prepare to repeat the process yet again. I felt like I was stuck end one of those low budget movies with cheesy twist endings. “All I need now is to be visited buy three ghosts,” I thought to myself sarcastically. I looked around as if I had just woken up from a bad dream. Then I noticed a note lying against the dingy black asphalt. I went to grab it without thinking straight. Then in a split second I realized I had just stepped out in front of a bus.