(Susan narrating)
I’m at work.
And I’m exhausted.
Today I replied to 728 emails, spoke to 96 people on the phone, and somehow also became everyone’s unofficial therapist.
Bills. Kids. Husband. Wife.
Life.
Existential crises.
Ma’am.
Sir.
I am not your therapist.
I am just here to click buttons and pretend I’m emotionally stable.
By noon, my brain clocked out.
By 2 PM it submitted a leave request.
By 3 PM I was staring at my monitor like it owed me money and refused to pay.
Then finally—
5:00 PM.
Freedom.
I sprinted to the elevator because if I missed the first batch of people leaving, the hallway would turn into a National Geographic documentary: Migration of the Corporate Herd.
I reached the bus station.
It looked like a zombie apocalypse.
Except the zombies were holding tote bags, coffee cups, and emotional damage, all aggressively trying to board a bus that had clearly given up on respecting capacity limits.
Normally I squeeze in with everyone.
But today?
No energy.
My soul had already left my body around 2:47 PM.
So I waited for the next bus.
Same problem.
Another bus came.
Same problem.
At this point the buses were arriving already emotionally overwhelmed.
Two hours later my legs were shaking, my back was screaming, and my feet were preparing to file a formal HR complaint.
Finally… another bus arrived.
I climbed in as the last survivor.
Honestly I didn’t even care anymore.
I just wanted to go home and collapse like a Victorian woman with tuberculosis.
The bus was so full the door pushed me inside like,
“Congratulations.
You live here now.”
My face was pressed against the glass like a sad aquarium fish.
Someone was coughing.
Someone’s armpit was hosting a public event.
There was sweat.
There was odor.
There were regrets.
At one point I genuinely thought:
“This is it.
This is how I die.
Not in glory.
But suffocated between a backpack and someone’s elbow.”
I was one stop away from fainting and becoming a viral cautionary tale.
But then—
A miracle.
The bus reached my stop before my spirit left my body.
The doors opened.
And honestly?
It felt like the gates of heaven opened too.
Fresh air.
Night sky.
My soul slowly downloading back into my body like slow Wi-Fi.
I walked home.
Then I heard it.
My Badoodle.
Tiny paws.
Zoomies.
Pure chaotic happiness.
The sound of someone who had apparently been waiting all day just to celebrate my survival.
I opened the door slowly…
And there he was.
Tail wagging.
Running back and forth like,
“SUS! YOU’RE BACK!
YOU DEFEATED THE BUS MONSTER!”
And just like that…
The exhaustion melted away.
I still don’t want to commute.
But there’s something comforting about knowing that at the end of the day…
Someone is waiting for you.
And they are genuinely thrilled you came home alive.
We ate dinner.
Did our night routine.
I kissed Oishi on the forehead.
Then we slept.
Good night.
I hope the office burns down tomorrow so there’s no work.
Kidding.
…
Am I?
Still rising.
Still barking.
🐶🐾
Ember - Fire and Soul 