Stupid Penny

    As I sat by the bay at Embarcadero frantically digging through my purse looking for one lousy penny, I cursed myself for not stopping to pick up those two pennies I had dropped the day before.
    I counted the last of my change that was in my coin purse.  Thirty-eight cents.  Fuck.  The ramen packets at Walgreen's are thirty-nine cents.
    Stupid me got drunk last night and didn't wake up until 7:38 in the morning, not nearly enough time to make myself a lunch or even breakfast.  I barely had enough time to pour a burning cup of coffee down my throat but I needed it bad.  I'm almost positive I was still drunk when I got out of bed today, which more than likely contributed to my overly awkward day.  Tripping on the escalator, absent-mindedly reaching for a flyer then realizing mid-grab what I was doing and quickly retreating (The man's desperation when he saw my weakness was priceless, though.), mistake after mistake at work.
    I recounted my change, reminding myself I'm mildly retarded and may have miscounted.  Still thirty-eight cents.  I stop to regroup and my attention is drawn to the sound of too much change jingling in someone's pocket.  It's a small, old man jogging, nay, shuffling past me.  I could take him, I think to myself.
    Fortunately for the man, my conscience was moving a little faster than my body.  Unfortunately for me, I won't be able to buy my bag-o-salt soup at the store and will be forced to feast on the holiday sweets that everyone keeps bringing into the office.

    There goes my ass.