Late

There are not many things worse than being a ridiculous amount of time late to work. I'm not talking about half an hour late, I mean like four hours late. What excuse can you give for being four hours late? There is no excuse. You stumble in the door, disheveled and smelly. Your eyes have a wild and glazed look, and you when you speak your voice shakes and cracks. The massive bags under your eyes and bent neck immediately betray your reason for lateness. Your hangover is as apparent as a brand on your fucking forehead.
Actually, perhaps actually making it to work isn't the worst part. The worst part is right when you wake up. Your alarm was set for 7:30, and the clock says 1:00.
"1:00?" you think. I never sleep in this late, hangover or no hangover. Then, you remember that you haven't set your clock back yet from daylight savings time, in order to inspire a more hasty revival from sleep when your addled morning mind forgets your clock's inaccuracy. So it's 12:00. That could happen. You've slept in till 12 before when the night was particularly rough. But Jesus, on the one fucking day you have to be at work early, the one day? This can't be happening. Your dawning apprehension of the shit you're in gives you a horrible feeling in your chest. That feeling sucks. Your stomach does a nose dive into your bowels, and your mind starts racing, trying to figure out what to do. Part of you wants to just say fuck it and skip work altogether, let them fire you. At least you still have a bit of dignity left, at least that way you'll 'stick it to the man.' But you don't really want to do that, so you run around frantically trying to find clothes to throw on, and you sprint out the door un-showered and unhappy.

Today is so going to suck.