My wife could save me some time by dropping the kids of to school. Sheepishly I asked her to do so. This request was met by a scowl. I knew she would do it, but it meant her deviating from her route to office. I was still to answer for coming home so late last night, and now this. I would pay the price later this evening.I kissed my kids bye. The deep sense of guilt I felt made me avoid my wife’s eyes, as I ran for the door, picking up my briefcase and car keys. As I started the car I recalled that I had taken the budgeting folder out of my briefcase the previous morning to go through it, and it was on the hall table. I got out of my car and rushed back to the house. I was met by the wondering look of my kids and the knowing look of my wife. With a wry smile on her face, she handed me the folder and I bolted out of the door, back to the car. Starting it once more, I rolled out of the garage onto the road.I looked at the gauges in the car and groaned again. I was almost out of gasoline. Filling gasoline meant more time lost, but with what was in the tank I would not reach office. So I rolled into the first l bunk to learn that on Monday morning more than the normal number of people filled gasoline. Impatiently I waited in the queue, cursing the slowness of the operator. Hours not minutes seem to tick by while I got to my turn to fill gasoline.Back on the road, my plans of a swift drive to office were dashed. Heavy traffic rolled forward in my direction, and all I could do was flow with it in the direction of my office. An eternity seemed to pass before I reached the turn-off to my office. As I was late the parking lot appeared full. I had to drive around to find a parking slot to park my car. More time lost. Nothing seemed to be working for me. Murphy’s Law appeared to be in operation.I rushed to the lift and waited for the doors to open. I clambered into the lift along with the rush of other late arrivals. Got off at my office and reached my cubicle. I placed my briefcase on my table and looked at my watch. It was twenty-eight minutes after nine – twenty-eight minutes late for the appointment with my boss. I sat down in my chair and ran my hand through my hair. I cursed my getting up late. I gradually resigned myself to the firing that could be expected from my boss.The door to my cubicle opened. I saw my boss framed in it. I expected to see fury on his face and was flinching to receive the first
Works Cited1. “Murphy’s Law”. Wikepedia. The Free Encyclopedia. 30 Sept. 2007. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murphys_law>.
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