Don't Go to Work Tomorrow

"Come on!" I yell to nobody. My right hand is gripping the steering wheel and my left is holding my head up. Bumper to bumper traffic always knows how to spoil an already rotten day.

I wish honking my horn would make a difference, but all it would do is make unnecessary noise within the blockade of cars. It would make me feel better, though.

My favorite podcast has been playing for the past 30 minutes, which has gotten me 4 miles. It's been droning on in the background, but I haven't been able to hear it past my road rage. My brain has been ruminating 40 miles an hour faster than my car's current speed and I can't keep up. Although I've been overthinking the same frustrated topic for the past half hour, it repeats over and over again at what feels like the speed of light. No matter what I try to distract myself, my brain finds a way back.

No matter what I do, my boss thinks I am incompetent. I send over the files, she follows up a day later and says she's still waiting. I think she has dementia. After I forward her the original email where I included the files, she asks what took so long to send me the files. And what else I've been working on. And if I am using my time efficiently. It takes 4 seconds to see that I sent those files 15 minutes after she asked. I don't understand. She does this all the time. She either needs to see a doctor or is on the nastiest power trip. I'm sick of it--

As my train of thought began its repetitive spiral, my podcast abruptly stops and my phone starts ringing at an abnormally loud volume. I jump out of my seat and instinctively slam the brakes. Luckily, we were hardly moving anyway and it didn't make much of a difference.

My heart pounding from the sudden jumpscare, I look at my car's screen to see who's calling. It says unknown number, then lists a familiar looking phone number underneath.

Wait... am I reading that right?

The phone number is one that I have memorized. The phone number is one that I've given to people. The phone number is one that I've put on professional documents. Job applications. Doctor's appointment paperwork.

It is my phone number.

A strange feeling that could only be described as anxious intrigue overtook my body. My curiosity leaned forward to click the answer button, but I missed my chance. The call disappeared.

The traffic starts moving a little again and the podcast continues.

The one time I want traffic to stop so I can check my phone, it actually moves...

Grateful from the distraction from my ruminating hatred for my job, but also stressing about this new mystery, I am now getting even stronger road rage.

"Go or stop! Pick one! Why are we creeping?" I yell to myself as my curiosity intensifies. The phone pings.

A new voicemail.

From that number.

I use my car's screen to navigate to the phone app while creeping the car forward. I find the voicemail and click play.

"Don't go to work tomorrow," a voice that sounds like mine says. My eyes widen as I stare off, focusing on the car in front of me as I try to comprehend what I just heard.

After taking a moment to contemplate, I decide to try calling back the number. I tap it and listen to the phone ring.

Eventually, it stops ringing. I look at the screen briefly, and it looks like the call is active.

"Uh, hello?" I ask.

Silence.

"You left me voicemail. Who is this?"

"Don't go to work tomorrow," the voice says.

The traffic is starting to speed up, but I'm losing focus on the road. Luckily, I am nearing my exit.

"Why? Who are you?" I ask again.

Silence.

I merge to the exit.

"Answer me!" I demand.

I get on the exit ramp.

More silence.

"I'm you if you go to work tomorrow. You don't want to become me," the voice says.

"What does that even mean? Can you just explain?" I ask.

I exit the freeway and pull over into a nearby parking lot. My heart is racing and I can feel myself getting frantic.

"If this is a prank, just say so already. This isn't funny," I say.

"Listen to me. Don't go to work tomorrow. Call out sick."

"I don't have sick hours. I need money. Just tell me what's going on!"

"Trust me."

Then the phone clicks.

"What?" I screech. I call back. It rings for a while, but never picks up. I hang up and try again. Nothing.

I try texting the number. No response.

I take a deep breath, wipe my face of my tears, and pull out of the parking lot to head home. I spend the entirety of the drive deciding if I should call out or not.

If that truly is me, I should trust myself.

If it is just someone pranking me, I would be calling out for no reason.

I could use a day off.

When I finally park in front of my house, I take out my phone and draft an email to my boss.

"Hi, I wasn't feeling well at the end of my shift and it seems like it's only gotten worse. I won't be able to come in tomorrow. Sorry for the inconvenience."

I take a breath, grab my stuff, and start to head inside. My phone pings instantly. A text from a different random number.

"Aw, that's a shame. We were really hoping to see you tomorrow. Guess we'll have to stop by your home instead."

I stop in my tracks.

I hadn't even sent the email yet.