This morning my alarm clock doesn’t go off. I open one eye to the bright sun hitting the window, and for a few seconds I feel as lost as Joe Biden entering the White House. It’s terrible when you realize that you are in the wrong place at the wrong time.
In a hurry, I put on my shirt inside out, and don’t realize it until I’m in the elevator, so I try to turn it around without taking off my suit. I am unsuccessful. I leave the house skipping, with arms bound like a madman fleeing from the madhouse, trying to undo the mess in a rather regrettable way.
Once in the car I see that my hair is a mess. Luckily I keep a comb in the glove box, and am able to tame it by brushing it at a traffic light, getting me whistles and applause from