Late for a Performance Review in the Laundry Room

Late for a Performance Review in the Laundry Room

I was on the 7:15 bus to work, same route past the grocery and the school, but the windows kept flashing little ads for dental implants I never asked for. My phone was in my pocket and also already in my hand, buzzing with a calendar invite from my old roommate. We were supposed to meet in conference room B, except when I got off at the usual stop the office lobby was my building’s laundry room, fluorescent and wet. I kept walking down a hallway that was longer than it should be, looking for the printer. A coworker who felt like two people at once—my manager and that guy from high school—asked why I wasn’t wearing the company visor. I said I left it charging by the sink. He just pointed at my wrist like it was already on. I couldn’t find the room and I was late for something that felt like a performance review. The rain outside the glass was neon-colored but nobody mentioned it. I woke up still checking my pocket for keys.