Nothing Funny About It

Argh! Grumble, grumble. I left the apartment last night early, because I didn't want to be late. And I said to myself before I left, "Do I have everything I need?" I took one last look around the room, decided I did, and walked out into the cool night, wearing my hat and gloves. Half way to the subway, I realized I forgot my fancy clothes. I stutter-stepped back and forth, to and fro, decided whether or not I should return from whence I came to get them. Thirty seconds later, I decided I should. I booked it (!) back to the apt, got my fancy clothes, and turned around to hurry back. Now I was definitely going to be late.

I made it to the train stop just as an N train was slowing down. I hurried up the steps, only to realize I was missing a glove! Argh! Grumble, grumble. I took one off to get my MTA card out of my pocket, and it must have dropped somewhere before the turnstiles. (In which musical do girls vie to become Miss Turnstiles?) But, I didn't have time to turn around and look for it because I was already late and the trains have been weird and now I would have been extra-super-crazy late. So, I sucked it up, got on the train and sat down.

There's no punchline. I was indeed late. I have indeed lost a glove. And I do indeed have dry skin on my knuckles.