Day 23 - An exhausted poem

Shit Sandwich of a Day

It starts as soon as I walk
through the door;
“There’s no coffee lids,
we need to bake 12,000 cinnamon bagels
and there’s not enough
topping sugar; oh, and the AC
isn’t working in the north dining room.”

Non-stop, all day long;
“I need a swipe,” “There’s a
phone call for you,”
“Where’s my raise,” and
“Did you know you’re out of coffee?”

Fifteen hundred dollars in
catering on top of a
nine thousand dollar day
in house with all this bullshit
on top.

After ten hours of this I say,
“I am leaving. I am going home.
I am going to drink bourbon and
I am going to give the ice cubes
to my dog.”

As I do just that,
the doorbell rings;
it’s the Jehovah’s Witnesses:
Of course it is…