Who stole my lucky Friday 13th ?

It all went wrong yesterday-not very wrong but wrong enough to feel cheated at the end. I woke up still/already tired and at 8 AM I started work not very enthusiastic as if I knew what was coming. People around me tried to test my nerves and at some point I successfully failed at it-I lost it pretty bad. On Thursday one of the things to do cost me a lot of time and efforts and on the next day I was told that the customer had changed his mind over the night and not only that my work went to the trash can but (if that wasn’t enough) I had to do it all over again; just because some moron hadn’t spared a minute to think. But it wasn’t then that I threw that terrible tantrum. It happened when the colleague who was the link between me and the customer brought me a gift as an apology although it wasn’t his fault. I, however, needed a scapegoat and my colleague was the only one available to play that part. And it just happened-a horrible outburst that slipped my lips and the moment I shouted at him to take the damn thing away and to get out of my sight I already felt 10 times worse. I apologized 30 seconds later but “I’m sorry! I’m truly sorry! You didn’t deserve it!” can not undo what I did.

Friday evening-the moment every M-F 8 AM-5 PM person waits impatiently like a convict on his last day in prison. The gates opened and I was free until Monday but somehow I was not as happy as I thought I’d be. The vacation season has started and all of my friends dispersed to the refugee places of their choice and I’m the only one left to pay respect to our hometown. It’s not that bad-as if half of the Sofia population has migrated and I have no problem to find a peaceful spot in my favorite café; there are much less people in the streets and the traffic is not so annoyingly busy.