Just another Saturday at work

3-something p.m.: I notice that the analog clock on the wall near the design desk is way behind (or ahead, I guess). It reads 9-something.

5 p.m.: The clock begins making a pained humming noise, as if its insides are revving up out of madness. I give the clock a mean sideways glance and say, “That is gonna have to stop or I am going to find somewhere else to work.” I continue giving the clock my very special go-to-hell look, and my boss, sitting nearby, tells me to “cuss it out.”

5:02: The clock hands begin moving, spinning slowly, ticking off the minutes as though we’re in a time-lapse movie. My boss insists that the clock will right itself and stop spinning once it reaches the correct time.

5:07: The clock passes 5:07 and I realize that this idiot thing might actually think we care whether or not it thinks it’s a.m. or p.m. and keep going until the next 5:07. HI, CLOCK? WE KNOW IT’S NOT A.M. BECAUSE WE ARE TROLLS WHO WORK AT NIGHT, GAH.

5:09: I am glaring at the stupid thing now, certain that this pass past 5:09 will be its last. It trucks on past the big 2 and I mutter many curse words. Okay, more like yell.

5:45: The clocks have been spinning now, clicking their hands noisily in a full circle again and again, since 5 o’clock. I go to the restroom to pee and see a giant wet spot on the carpet in front of the door, directly beneath a sprinker. I move on, relieve myself, contemplating how subtly weird things can be. I return to my desk to see that the clock has still not stopped spinning. I am forced to believe that this is some kind of heavy-handed commentary by the universe about how I am wasting my life.

6:07: The clock stops moving. It reads 6:02, but I’ll fucking take it.

8:59: The clock gets hung and begins making that familiar humming noise.

9: The hands begin making their way around the face. Clickclickclickclickclick. My left eye begins twitching. Hardcore.

9:05: Clock reads 10 ’til 2.

9:05:25: Clock reads 2:10

9:10: Co-worker offers me Lexapro so I’ll stop freaking out about the clock. I inform him that it’s unnecessary; I’m more than happy to self-medicate at home.

10:11: Clock stops at 6:01. My eye twitches unhappily.