Chances are, that you are not that fortunate and live 5 minutes from your bloody office, so theres some travel involved. Now, there are 2 kinds of travel here.
The car: This is the better option, for the rich bastard, that can’t be bothered to smell other peoples morning breath. Which is sometimes as good as an open suage. Which is.. great?
This we further divide to the “poor, but just rich enough bastard”, that can afford a car, but can’t afford a driver, and the “poor on paper, but still rich as shit bastard”, that gets his ass driven everywhere, so he can get drunk in the car even before arriving to the destination.
The public transport: This option is for everybody else. If you like feeling like a complete looser, then go for this option! Or if you live in NY. Because owning a car in NY is about as practical, as a pair of sandals in Alaska. It gets the job done, but the pain involved while suffering through it, is just not worth it.
Have you selected? Good. Well… Sort of…
If you chose option number one, then you have another, not very easy, task ahead of you. Try to remember, where did you park your fucking car yesterday, because the spot in front of your house, where the car should be, is occupied by some other retard, that apparently couldn’t be bothered to find his own spot two blocks down the road.
When you have finally found your fucking car, inspect it, so you are sure, that no drunken hobo has ripped off your mirrors, slashed your tires, or left his signature art on the hood. In key.
Find some deeply relaxing music on the stereo BEFOREHAND, so you don't snap during the morning rush-hour traffic jam, then drive the fuck off. You are late anyway at this point, so another 5 minutes selecting the song doesn't matter.
Now you don’t have to deal with only the other morons, that decided this is the perfect time to get into their tin boxes and go to work, but you also have to deal with the sheep, that mindlessly wonder to the road, while heading to the bus / train / tram / subway stations, so they can also get to their fucking jobs. This is bad, because when you run over a sheep, you go to the farmer, pay the man and everything’s golden.
Now, when you run over this morning sheep in the city, theres no farmer, theres cops. And witnesses. And when you, in a good will, try to iron things out with a small payment for the inconvenience you caused by running over that sheep, the cops will either bust you, or shoot you right away. Depending on the amount you thought the sheep was worth. So be careful, dumbass!
If you chose option number two, then your life will appear to be a bit easier now.
Head out to the station. The location of the nearest bus / train / tram / subway station is burned so deep into your brain tissue, that you can find it after 3 bottles of vodka no problem and still buy the fucking ticket.
Now, this is where the true difficulties begin. People. Tens, hundreds, thousands of people. They are fucking everywhere. And they are breathing and smelling and getting into your way.
Luckily, you are still half asleep, so you don’t have the energy to murder half of them, because they “forgot” to brush their teeth this morning. And every other fucking morning for that matter.
On the other hand, you can safely assume, that the rest of the morning sheep heading out for the daily slaughter, has the same urges and thoughts about murdering you, so it kinda evens out nicely.
So you just bounce around from one person to another, trusting them to carry you to your destination eventually. This can be very stressful, when you are new to this mode of transport, but believe me, the universe has a plan for you. And that plan is to get your fucking ass to work, so you can pay taxes for the stuff you own, so the “poor on paper, but still rich as shit bastard” can buy more stuff he doesn’t need and you will never own. Its a nice circle of life. And death… And desperation…
Mostly death and desperation.
But cheer up! Everyones gonna die one day!
When you have suffered through the transportation mode of your choosing and fall into your office chair with a motivation of a hamster who was ruining your sleep by running a fucking marathon all night, gather some strength and go get some coffee. If you are not fortunate enough to have a coffee machine at your workplace, then you should have thought this through better my son! Preferably before getting inside the fucking building!
Never mind, tea will do as well. About a litre that is.
Oh, you don’t even have tea? Well… Then you are fucked till lunch, my friend. You can attempt to sneak out and go buy some, but depending on your position, you could find yourself without a chair once you return. So be careful, dumbass!
Previous Section: Part 1 - The morning horror
Next up: Part 3 - The working hours