Getting Fired

That day was supposed to be just like any other working day. It was last Tuesday of November 2017, the week after Thanksgiving. I came to work, as usual, five minutes before 8:30 AM and walked to my desk. I’ve checked my emails opened my drive, started to look over some files, checked what was left behind from the day before. Everything was just normal. I couldn’t even guess that this would be the day when I will get fired for the second time that year alone. 

The sun came out and lit up that usual workday with some sunshine but it has been still pretty damn cold outside. From the inside, though, it seemed like it was warm and nice out there, almost like the Spring came early. During these rare days, you always feel a bit nostalgic and happy and you just want to go outside, leave that fucking desk and that fucking job and enjoy some daylight and enjoy some sunlight and just enjoy the simple moments of your life. I haven’t gone outside until later. I always wait until 12:30 PM sometimes 1 PM before I take my lunch and leave that fucking place for at least one hour to enjoy my lunch in the car. Yes, I ate my lunch in the fucking car, like a true savage I am. That fucking place had millions of dollars in the banks all over this fair country of ours but they didn’t have a simple fucking lunchroom for people to sit down and eat their leftovers at. You had to eat that smelly shit by your desk or take it outside or to your car. I’ve started that job in early August when the weather was still nice and warm. I loved to go outside and eat my lunch by one of the patio tables and enjoying the sun and the wind and the fresh air, and most importantly away from that fucking cubical.