Monday: the Day of Angst
It wasn't that Alex hated Mondays, or didn't trust it. It was that the day abhored him as any sane human being abhors the thought of waking up at the ******** a**-crack-of-dawn in a huddled mass of cold-sweat, feeling like he'd been ravished at both ends by heat-infected hyenas.
Not that hyenas were even pipedal, but...
He sighed. It hadn't been a good start to the lousy day. He recounted the events mentally. Gagged with his own hoody. Almost shanked in the face by a fork--by the same person who'd gagged him with his own hoody.
On top of that he'd found out he had to type a full editorial by the next day, start working on his biography assignment about Tolkien, find out about that Lulu place and whatever the hell Mornington Crescent was...
And to top it all off, as he looked at his B-day backpack he realized it... His flash drive was gone. The flash drive that had most of his assignments in it.
"YOU ******** RETARD!!" he screamed at himself, banging his head into the door, his fist on the frame, as he scoured the room to make sure it was really gone and hadn't been overlooked. He sank to the floor, head buried in the carpet as he gave a strangled sob. "Dad's gonna kill me..."
It was not a good day.
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