Racing Through an Elevator Grocery Aisle in Pajamas

Racing Through an Elevator Grocery Aisle in Pajamas

I was late for work again, sprinting down the hallway of my office building in my pajamas because I couldn't find my shoes. The elevator doors opened onto a grocery aisle instead of the lobby, and I kept bumping into a woman I used to sit next to in college who was now wearing my boss's suit. She smiled, and I felt that old flutter I used to get when we would trade notes. I tried to ask her where the conference room was, but every door I opened led to a different department, and the fluorescent lights flickered like they were winking at me. Finally, I found a small kitchen with a coffee machine that smelled exactly like the one at my parents' house. She was there, pouring a cup, and when she turned, her hair was half my sister's and half my ex's. I laughed, embarrassed, and tried to hand her my forgotten badge, but it slipped and rolled under a stack of boxes. I woke up just as I was reaching for it, heart still racing.