My Dream Of A Perfect Day

My Dream Of A Perfect Day

Welcome to ChicagoNow's Blogapalooz-Hour!

Our challenge, if we choose to accept it, is to publish a post in one hour. Here is tonight's challenge:

"Write what your perfect day would be like, either in reality or fantasy"

My perfect day would begin with me jumping out of bed the first time the alarm rings...thereby avoiding the snooze button all together.

I'd hit the shower-put on a pair of size 2 pants-and don a lovely blouse that accents my assets instead of my are-you-kidding-mes.

Roz Varon would not be on my TV scaring the bejeebies out of me before I start the car let alone pull out of the driveway...Butler would not be threatening me with weather patterns and cold temps...Hosea would not stumble over the words written before him on the teleprompter.  On a perfectly, perfect day-Robin, Larry, Pat and Paul would start at four.

My drive to work would only be fifteen feet instead of fifteen miles.  I would turn on the radio and not hear Swift shaking things off.  I'd hit every green light.

The girl who has waited on me every morning for the last two years at Speedway would say good morning-and thank me for suggesting she have a nice day.

Not one employee would call me before I hit the company driveway with some cock-a-may-me story of why they can't possibly come to work today.  Yep-today would be the day Crazy Eyes wasn't crazy...Sickly Sue wasn't sick...Always Late Lettie would be on time...and Stressful Steve would be agreeable.

Once to work everyone would do what they are supposed to do - the first time - not the third.  I wouldn't have to check-and double check.  They would remember to turn the oven on...wear gloves...and not wear their apron in the bathroom.

I definitely wouldn't have to answer any stupid questions on a perfect day.  Stupid questions could definitely wait until tomorrow.

Orders would come in on time.  Reports would be finished.  Drawers would balance.  The driver from Sysco wouldn't be a complete douche bag--I'd settle for him merely being a pain-in-the-ass on a perfect day.

Chef Shelly wouldn't douse herself with the cheap-ass perfume after her break.  Every time she sprays it-I end up eating it.  Today-I'd keep my mouth shut.

Loud Mouth LaVerne would only have two cigarettes on her ten minute break instead of taking a half-hour for four.

Gonnella would deliver my bread order--not the guy's down the street.  And, when I got the order from the dock...I'd remember my badge to get me back in...or at the very least I'd remember to bring my phone with so I could call for help.

Mopey Maureen would get some pep in her step-and transform into a multi-tasker.  If only.

The mouse that has been terrorizing me would eat the dried up piece of cheese in the goddamn trap...so Dopey Dan would never have to come and check to see if "we got 'im".

On a perfect day not one fatty would ask me if they could sub a 12-oz cup of cream of potato soup for the 2 oz cup of fruit on the sandwich special.

The Pepsi Fountain would transform into a Diet Coke Fountain-why stop there-today is perfect-let it dispense scotch.  Neat.

The drain under the sink...the one that sometimes backs up at inopportune times...would wait until after the lunch rush to spew human sewage.  No place for nasty on a perfect day.

My courier would show up with the money bag long before ten minutes ahead of the close.

There would be no caterings...no special requests...and the fans above the grill would actually work.  The temperature would be tolerable.  I wouldn't trip over fan cords...or slip in grease spills.  I'd wear better shoes-not sensible non-skids.

The vending machines would not require a nudge-shove-or refunds of any kind...and when people hit the salad bar-they'd wipe up all the shit they spilled building their plate.

On a perfect day I could answer Lobster Boy the way I want to answer him when he asks when I think we'd have a Chili Bar or when I thought he might see lobster on the menu.  Ah...never and never.

The day wouldn't end with a blinding headache.

On a perfect day I'd be somewhere enjoying life-not here-tied down to something I have absolutely no passion for.

On a perfect day I would be anywhere but here...

 

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