O Brother where art thou?

It was quite early in the morning when he woke. He sat up and propped his pillow against the bed-head then turned on his bedside lamp. He reached for his book and skimmed across the pages before he fell asleep again to wake up five minute before nine. Time for work in five minutes. He was rather annoyed at himself for being late again, the third day in a row. It was hard, not being able to sleep, and then waking at wee hours in the morning and then oversleeping. He was reluctant to go back on the pills again, but he's afraid he must. Too tired to work today but there was this blasted meeting he had to attend. He hurriedly jumped into the shower, pulled on his shirt, brushed his teeth and shuffled his laptop into his bag. He grabbed his keys and ran out the door. Damn. Forgot his cellphone. He pushed the door open again and searched for his cellphone. He finally found it under his pillow. He grabbed it and walked out the door. He thought about calling his secretary but decided that it would safe him more time to just get into his car and drive there. He can get breakfast on his way up. He wondered what his boss would think, although he usually was late too and does not notice. The great thing about being late is missing the traffic jam, he was pleased so he did not notice that the roads were quieter than usual. He drove along the road he had recently familiarized himself with. He had just moved to his new place and had managed to get himself lost a few times. He enjoyed the drive today though, no traffic, no long waits. He pulled into his parking space and walked up. Strange. It was strangely serene, the good man thought to himself as he opened the door. Too quiet for a working day. Oh well, good for him, he thought. Get through the day and then go to that social dinner that he had been invited to. The front desks were empty so he walked in and frantically pressed the buttons of the lifts. As he reached the floor he worked on he stepped out of the lifts and headed towards his office. There was nobody there. He hoped that they had not called an emergency staff meeting. He sat down and connected his computer to the cable. He picked up his phone to call his secretary. No answer. Annoyed, he walked to her desk. It was empty too. As he walked back to his desk his cellphone rang. Breakfast? The voice at the other end rang. I have to work he replied. Work? The voice asked, but it's a sunday. What? It's a sunday!! Sunday? Yeap. Oh well, I guess I will have breakfast then, he replied. See you soon. He sighed as he sat slumped into his chair. A Sunday. The one day he could've slept in, he rushed. Such a waste. He dragged himself off the chair and back downstairs. As he walked towards his car he noticed how quiet it was, not even the sound of his shoes on the pavement. He looked down. Something began to tickle him inside and the annoyance and frustration he felt melted away. Staring at him were two mickey heads, the bedroom slippers he had gotten for his birthday this year. He burst out laughing. He forgot his shoes. As he drove home he wondered what made her call for a breakfast date, she knew he wouldn't usually be up on a Sunday morning. He opened his car door and ran back up so he could get changed into more comfortable clothes and put on some shoes. He walked up the stairs towards his apartment and what he saw made him smile. A bottle of spritzer, two packets of nasi lemak, and the smiling face of the voice ringing to offer him some breakfast company. Happy Birthday, she sang. He's got all the time in the world for breakfast, after all he never worked on Sundays.