Expectations of the Day

There are always certain expectations we have in our lives.

I can expect today that I will  leave my house to go to a job that I have long since lost all passion for. It would not be unusual for my daughter to get angry or upset because I am leaving so soon after bringing her home from school, my getting a bit frustrated about this would be about par for the course, from here the prospects for my day will only get grimmer.

When I arrive at work I can assume that my boss will greet me and ask me how I am doing. I am expected to say, “Fine.” I am fairly certain that if I were to say anything difference would change his , we’ve been going through this routine for years and I can tell that he’s not really paying any attention. I’ll draw some coffee from the air pot, in all likelihood it will be luke warm and taste of old pencil shavings.

At some point, probably late, the rest of the staff will begin to trickle in, various levels of excess from last night all too readable on their faces. I can anticipate an exasperating string of hours watching them drag themselves through the paces of the day.  It is only a matter of time before they get started, probably early, on tomorrow’s hangover.

In all probability the mediocrity of my employment, the drudgery and thankless nature of my work will further embitter me, and throughout the night I can safely expect to seriously consider quitting my job about four times, at least one of those times I will come close to just walking out. It won’t be worth it, I’ve got too much sense and too much responsibility, but it would be a damned satisfying thing to do.

After some many years I would suppose I might be inured to the feeling bleakness when examining my prospects for an evening.  It is within all reasonable expectations that I will struggle with the urge to drink. At the end of it all it will probably be best if I go home eat a pint of ice cream, and stare at my computer in mild annoyance. These short bouts of depression really get to me sometimes.

I expect…

Well, I expect I’ll feel better tomorrow.

This was written in response to a Weekly Challenge.

11 thoughts on “Expectations of the Day

  1. Oh dear. Sounds like an ultimate Groundhog Day. (Have u seen that movie?!) I had a bad day yesterday too, but I wrote a funny blog so I could at least laugh at myself (since no one was gonna make me laugh!) I’m not trying to plug my own blog site, but read it – I am just hoping to cheer you up a bit 🙂 I hope your ‘Groundhog Day’ tomorrow will be better!!

    • I really enjoyed Groundhog Day when it came out, I am pretty sure I saw it in the theater. Bad days are a dime a dozen and it is very easy to get stuck in a rut sometimes.

      I really liked the anecdotes in that post. You contribute enough good commentary on my blog I feel you are entitled to putting a pug in every now and then. To make it official here’s a link straight to the article: The Doctor’s Handwriting

      Now everyone else can have a giggle over it as well.

  2. That you can so frankly speak of your urges to drink impresses me. Impresses? Eh. Not the best word. I’m… I admire you? Something. It’s a good thing, for all that I can’t express it. Your humanity shows through in your writing, both fiction and real life anecdotes. I’m glad you write — I’m gladder still that you let the rest of us read it.

    • Thank you.

      I have found the key to staying sober is just being frank and honest about it, to the point where it absolutely bores the crap out of me. New fiction coming at about noon Today FYI.

  3. Thank you for sharing this – it surprises me that this is the first post I’ve read in response to the daily challenge this week that covers everyday basic expectations.
    I get in similar funks that take time to snap out of … it’s the whole “working for the man” rather than for yourself that can get so depressing. Work so hard for little recognition & when the recognition comes – at the risk of sounding greedy…it’s just not enough.
    The world continues to spin and it seems you have a good handle on your funk.
    Sometimes all I need is a Saturday to get back on the “Well, at least I have a job…” train. (Which I usually fall off sometime around Wednesday.)
    Happy Friday to you.

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