What Are We Having Today?

It had been a long day, even though the clock said it was only 10.

You found yourself too distracted to sleep last night, and whenever that happened you considered the day one long continuation from the last. The calendar said Saturday but as far as you were concerned, until you slept, Friday hadn’t ended. And you hated Fridays.

You wondered if it would ever end.

You knew you had to leave, but every part of you was resisting. It almost seemed cruel. Alone in your apartment was exactly where you wanted to be. You always felt far lonelier outside around strangers than you did locked in those walls surrounded by silence.

But you left anyway and caught the bus, watching the passive, uninterested face of the driver as you paid your fare. He didn’t even look at you, but you were sure he was silently judging you, as they all were, comparing you to the thousands of others he saw every day.

And looking at your change you were sure he overcharged you as well, but you weren’t about to go back and bother him. You definitely gave him a ten, not a five, but the extra interaction just wasn't worth it. You needed to stay sharp for what was about to come.

Taking a seat you started to wonder what she would think. Would she laugh when you walked through the door? Or worse, would she also be judging you, like the others? Or worse still, maybe she wouldn’t even remember you?

You couldn’t blame her if she didn’t. You were hardly memorable, and if you were, it wasn’t for anything good. She’d give cursory, sympathetic glances and ask how your day had been, nothing more, and you were sure she didn’t even listen as you fumbled over your words to respond. You vowed to test this one day by saying something outlandish, but that just wasn't your style.

Sitting on the bus, barely staying awake, your head felt light, like it had been filled with helium, and you wondered if it might just pop at any moment. A woman next to you opened the window, and you imagined your head just floating out, up to the sky.

That'd be something.

The bus was going painfully slow, and each corner it took your stomach was turned in the opposite direction. Every time it stopped to let someone on or off, you considered just forgetting the whole thing and going home. What did it matter anyway? What did you care what they thought?

Well, you did. Each new arrival who gave a glance on their way by, you assumed to be judging you.

But you were almost there, you just had to hold on a little while longer. You knew you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you turned back now.

You were doing this for you. No one else.

So you stood up, took a deep breath, and pressed the bell.

“Ding,” it said, and as the bus stopped you walked down the aisle and stepped off. You forgot to say thank you to the driver, and turned back, but he'd already pulled away, forgetting you forever. He probably didn't even notice, but that would be enough to give you at least two sleepless nights.

Damn it, why didn't you say thank you?!

Crossing the road and approaching, you could see the place was empty, so you took a deep breath, wiped the sweat that was pouring from your face, and gently pushed door.

“Ding-a-ling,” it said.

She was sat there, lounging on a sofa, and looked up from a magazine she was reading. She offered a smile for free.

“Good morning,” she said, watching you take off your jacket. “What are we having today? The usual?”

“Yes,” you said, "the usual."

So she did remember you.

Sitting down in the surprisingly comfortable chair and spinning to face your tired reflection, you realised everything would be okay. Everything was always okay.

It never got any easier.