What Life To Live

The sun was steadily climbing the horizon as I sped through the still sleepy streets of Atlanta. I had a need for speed this morning, a sudden rage hitting me from out of no where. The robot traffic light I pass every morning looks extra chipper this day in time, which disgusted me even more that usual. I sped past it like everything else in this newly renovated city.
Atlanta used to be a half and half town; meaning the one side of the city was always busy and thriving while the other side was emptier and had less than a little. But many things have changed since then, such as the people starting their own businesses instead of looking for one in that used-to-be crappy economy that this country faced at least twice in last half a century. And many found somewhere to get cleaned up and that brings us to this now modern day. That also brings us to me and my job.
The CNN center, within about the middle of the giant city, has an amazing alignment of places to visit and look around in. The have the CNN television studio, food court, and other shops but the most exciting part of this humongous building is off to the side in a connected building, they have the arena, where anything you could imagine is held there; concerts, hockey games, and anything in between. Oh, if only I worked there. Ha! you thought I did! Just telling you about it made me think I worked there. I would be so much happier there than working as a stupid souvenir shop clerk over by the back entrance. But I don't just work there, oh no. I come in early mornings like this and clean the bathrooms and floors in the food court and do it all again on the rest of the 15 floors in here. All so I can pay for my necessities. My food, the so-called "green gas" for my car, toiletries, and other thing of that nature.
My best friend, Jaymie, works with me at the shop, and every other day she comes in and helps me, 'cause like I said, she's my best friend. I have even asked her to come and live with me, not that way, but because, honestly, I'm rather alone in that house on the hill, and because of the fact that her parents hate her and beat her on some occasions. I'm dead serious. But all she says is 'My parents would never approve.' And she'd leave it there. She's like my little sister, I care so much about her and her well-being. Today, I am so glad that she comes in and helps me. Because truthfully, I wanted her here, just so I knew she was okay.
But the funny thing, which isn't all that funny at the moment, she's not here yet. It's 10:00 am and we are suppose to be here at 9:30. Where is she? I walk over to the front doors where she comes in from and look for her bodily presence. She nor her car were present. 'Okay, she isn't here, that doesn't mean anything.' I was telling myself this for comfort because I openly hate moments like this. I hate to show my emotions. The manager comes over and nearly scares me out of my wits.
"What are you doing, Ms. Robinson?" He asks in his deep, throaty voice.
"Waiting for Jaymie, sir." I say with a slight twinge in my own voice. It slipped from heart to my mind and I wish it hadn't.
"Ms. Peters isn't coming in today, Emaleigh, I'm sorry. You will just have to do the building yourself again." And with that, he walked away. Not coming in today? She just told me she was on her way not 15 minutes ago! I'm going to call her. I pull out my phone to see I have a video message. It's from Jaymie.