I glared at the term’s final psych paper that refused to send no matter how many times I typed and retyped my professor’s email address or how many times I attached the file. Glancing out the window at the blowing snow, I sighed. The last thing I wanted to do was go out in a raging blizzard, but I needed to get my paper turned in.
I flipped on the printer and sent the the file to it. Nothing. I repeated the action. Nothing. I turned it off and on. Still nothing. I slammed the keyboard drawer back into the desk then shoved it in again when it popped back out at me.
Goddamn it. Now, I was going to have to not only drive to campus to drop off the paper, I was also going to have to find a printer in the student union that actually worked, print the file there and then deliver it to my prof…all by the three o’clock deadline. I had forty-two minutes. Disengaging my flashdrive, I shoved it in my pocket and immediately got a papercut from the check stub I shoved in there earlier. “Can’t one fucking thing in my life go right, for once?”
“What do you expect when you send that attitude out into the universe?”
Instead of responding, I flipped off my boyfriend turned zen master. Of course, he didn’t notice, he was too busy becoming one with all that is with the X-Box and whatever bullshit game he was into now.
I couldn’t decide what was worse–his gaming addiction or the fact that he’d discovered the self-help section at the library.
Pushing my feet into my boots, I yanked my winter coat off the back of the chair and managed to scratch the back of my hand with the metal zipper that was far sharper than it should have been. “Fuck this day already,” I muttered.
Benji looked away from the TV, and his brow furrowed in confusion. “Where are you going?”
“To campus. To print my paper. So I, you know…don’t fail my class. Ringing any bells?” I walked toward the door and pulled on my mittens.
He glanced back at the TV and resumed playing his game. “I wouldn’t bother.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“All the trouble you’re having with the computer, the printer–you’re not going to get your paper turned in on time, anyway. Might as well stay inside where it’s warm. Mercury’s in retrograde.”
I just blinked at him. “Mercury’s…”
“In retrograde,” he finished, focusing on his game. “It affects all forms of communication.”
I pulled on my hat. “You don’t say.”
If he heard the sarcasm in my tone, he gave no sign.
“Yep. Electronic. Verbal. Written–hell, even if you get that paper printed, you’ll probably fail, anyway.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Mercury in retrograde is a bitch.”
I marched over to where the X-Box was plugged in and yanked the cord out of the wall. “Yeah. Me, too.”
Welp, I think I’m the only one this week, and that’s it for flash fic for me this year. But we’ll be back next year with more prompts and more short stories. Thanks for reading!