Fingers drumming on the wheel, lips between her teeth, and a very mellow song to calm her down playing on the radio, Marla sped towards work, hoping, with an inch of a chance, that she wouldn't be in too much trouble for being this late. Hopefully her boss would understand - he had sounded irritated over the phone.
"Why in the seven blazes was I smiling in the clinic?" She said out loud, mostly just to distract herself from the very long queue at the traffic lights. Today was just not her day!
"I mean, why, really? I still hate that place. Still wanted to set some people's hair on fire just to speed things up but it was all so... happy, too." She made that hmm... sound of consideration as she gave up on keeping a hand over the gear stick and just sank back into the seat. She pressed a button and the song changed to something less funeral and more Hillary Duff.
Marla had been smouldering in hatred, impatience and disgust. She was seeing red, as she was wont to do. Marla admitted that she was easy to anger, and, in part, that is what the pills are for, but still. One moment that was all there was and then she read that longish text and then... she could still feel the hate but suddenly she could alos think about everything that could possibly be positive about the situation. It was a veritable bipolar effect. Yes, the sun was enough to fry an egg, but at the same time some of it would give her a nice tan and enough vitamin d to last an age.
"That is just not like me!" She told her reflection in the rear-view mirror as she touched up her lipstick. "I mean, yes, but no." After she crossed the slow traffic light and came to a second stop she looked at her handbag with the pills inside. "Unless that one I took today had a different dose... or it was the text."
