She didn’t answer, not that I expected her to. Sometimes I liked to hear a voice in the empty room, even if it was my own.
“I’m heading off into the oh-so-exciting world of corporate project management,” I informed the whole group. “I bet you wish your day was going to be as interesting as mine.”
I had always had a thing for the superwomen of movies and comic books. They were the epitome of strength, valor, and living life on the edge. They protected the innocent with their cunning intelligence and dedication. They led exciting lives.
Unlike me.
I looked into their blank eyes and shook my head, wondering if I was losing my mind. It would just figure. Only I could drive myself into insanity just because I had nothing better to do.
Sighing, I left the figures to their enthralling lives on the shelf and carefully locked the door to my condo. It wasn’t that I expected to be granted superpowers so I could go about ridding the world of nefarious criminals, but the whole idea was so far removed from project management, it was enough to leave me wondering if I was actually becoming clinically depressed. I’d refused all the usual anti-anxiety medications when Dad died, determined to cope with it all on my own though Dad’s clinic partner and friend kept telling me I didn’t need to do it by myself.
It had been two years since a heart attack took his life, and though I missed him dearly, I was now able to rejoice in memories of my father and his impact on my life. Using anecdotes from the lives of his patients, he had taught me to always watch my actions and my words. I was careful both with myself and with those around me.
Always.
I considered giving Mom a call this weekend to see how San Francisco was treating her. Moving from my childhood home in Ohio to start a new life had been her coping mechanism after Dad was gone. As a result, our relationship had dwindled to the point where we only saw each other on major holidays instead of multiple times a week. Having her most of the way across the country made me miss her, and my father, more.
I never told her that. I didn’t want to upset her or make her think she should move back. It wouldn’t be fair of me to put that kind of pressure on her. She needed to restart her life for her own sake, and I wasn’t going to do or say anything to get in the way of her goals.
In my garage, my slightly-rusting Mazda was pretty far removed from an invisible plane, but it was the best form of transportation—the kind that was paid for and still ran pretty well as long as I remembered to get
the oil changed on time. Instead of villains, I fought traffic on the highway and a co-worker for the last space in the parking garage.
Lost that battle.
I smiled and pleasantly greeted the security guard as I swiped my access badge and headed into the building, up the stairs, and to my cubicle space overlooking the parking area. I checked my calendar, grabbed my laptop, and hoped there wouldn’t be donuts at the first meeting of the day.
I couldn’t win a conflict with myself any more than I could rush to take a parking spot from someone whose eyes I might have to meet later on in the day. It wasn’t that I had a problem standing up for myself—I didn’t—but when it came to the little things, it seemed easier to just give in.
Some superheroine I would be.
Meetings went on, project plans were updated, and I worked through my lunch to make sure everyone who needed continuous information regarding the financial impact of this and that were all informed. The day, though typical, went just fine until the last hour.
The little hand on the clock overhead clicked toward the five. I blinked and took a deep breath. Under the table in the meeting room, I clenched my fists and tried not to visibly shake.
Across from me sat Kevin Stump, the rat-bastard who had been hired as my new boss just a few weeks ago. As if his inane smile and ridiculous, over-styled hair weren’t enough to make me want to punch him, the crap that came out of his mouth was far, far worse.
“I realize you’ve only been with us a few weeks,” I said through slightly gritted teeth, “but this upgrade is crucial. I know the business units aren’t going to see immediate results, but if you look at the long-term capacity of the servers-”
“Miss Ellison,” Kevin sat back in his chair and rolled his eyes, “I’m well aware of how these things work. Everyone here seems to be under the impression that this company is somehow unique to others out there, but it’s not. I know when an upgrade is needed and when it isn’t. This one can wait.”
“If you look at the data,” I started to say as I pulled out some of my charts, but he interrupted me before I could explain.
“It’s irrelevant,” he stated. He ran his fingers over the top edge of his hair but not into the actual strands. One of them might get out of place if he did that. “I’ve seen it, and it doesn’t show anything conclusively.”
I blinked a few times as I imagined Buffy stepping out from the giant whiteboard behind Kevin’s head and shoving a stake through his heart.
“But these spikes here…” I pointed to one of the charts, but he dismissed me with a wave.
“We’re done here,” he said. “Inform the team they can focus on projects that will actually earn this company some money.”
I wanted to call him an idiot. I wanted to throw my laptop—or at least my pen—right at his Chia-head face. I wanted to invoke my most sarcastic side and spew forth commentary worthy of Scott Adams himself.
I didn’t. I couldn’t.
Aside from needing the job, I didn’t want to actually hurt his feelings.
Kevin stood and left before I could say another word. I sat there for a few moments until I realized my mouth was open and I was sitting alone in a conference room. I slammed my laptop closed and headed out.