Alex

Sometimes I reach a point in my life where I take a look at my 401k to see how long I can actually comfortably retire if I was to quit work today.

This Monday had been one of those days.

In case you were wondering how long that was, it came to approximately a year. Then homelessness, it would be.

Christian looked equally distracted as he entered the office this morning. He had that distant vibe, like something was eating away at him, but I had no idea what. Because of our messy schedules, neither of us had any free time to touch base. I did receive an occasional email that would say cute shit like "you're looking fine today" and "I know these bitches are crazy but please don't quit."

Safe to say that Christian was single handedly keeping me at this company.

Derek has managed to visit me once during the day, just to inform me that the third floor was also quite literally on fire. I knew the money we'd be saving and making with combining Mavericks and the gear launch, but I was starting to deeply regret evening offering this idea. Another email had come in closer to the afternoon. It was just a picture of one gorgeous ass resort. The subject of the email was Hawaii in Two Days.

This motherfucker really knew how to appeal to my senses.

I was surprised to see Joan at the entrance of my office, when I heard a knock. The first thing this woman said once she walked through my door was "Bitch."

My eyebrows raised in surprise. All she did was repeat the word yet again to me but elongate the last consonants. "Bitchhhhhh."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "What the fuck is up girl?"

"Bitch listen. That motherfucker Jillian in marketing? Yeah she can get it. And as in get it, I mean my fist colliding with that bitches jawline. You know what this bitch has the audacity to do? Switch up the promotional artwork. Like bitch the launch is tomorrow what fucking time do we have to start redesigning shit. God is my witness, Alex. I'm going to kill her."

I was trying to regain my composure between periods of sporadic laughter.

"Girl I have every bit of faith in the fact that you could take Jillian. All I know is orange is not the new black and you would look terrible in a orange jumpsuit. I love you, but you would look terrible." By now she had made large strides to my desk, and plopped herself in one of my visitor chairs.

"I think I'm going to have to fake a family death to get out of today. I can't do this shit. I get why people keep a bottle of liquor inside their desk at work. Like I understand that level of alcoholism now." Joan's face sunk into her hands dramatically.

"You could try taking a long break? Maybe step out and get some fresh air?" I offered after my laughter died out.

"I had to negotiate with Derek to cover my work just so I could come up and see you. A break seems like a fever dream now." She replied.

"Girl legally you are obligated to take a break. Just walk out." I spoke honestly.

"What I hate the most about companies is the fact that taking a break is never just that easy. I'm going to come back to a shit storm, Alex. A fucking shit show."

Joan wasn't exactly wrong here. We were approaching three in the afternoon and I had yet to take a break myself. It felt like my office door had been more of a revolving door by the amount of people who had rushed in to ask me a question. I was genuinely surprised that Joan and I hadn't been interrupted yet

"I'm sure they could handle you being gone for an hour." I offered. My words held little to no confidence, however. Joan cracked up.

"You and I both know that's not true. Missing an important phone call would literally be the end of the word right now. It's crunch time baby. Last quarter of that match. Needing that final touchdown at the buzzer."

"You just threw a bunch of sports words together didn't you?" I wasn't a sports guy myself but I knew some shit there didn't go together.

"Yes sir. Indeed I did. Now, judging by how much calmer I am, I'm guessing my therapy session with you is over. Time for me to go bang my head against my desk for the next three hours while we all work that mandatory overtime." Joan stood with an exasperated sigh.

If this was what therapy looked like, I'd go every day.

"Try not to get physical babe. Not with yourself or someone else. I need you here."

"Oh my love, I can't make any promises here." She blew me a quick kiss as she made her way out of my office. It wasn't even a second later when I heard another knock. It was Bill from Accounting.

"Hey what's up?" I glance past my computer screen to look at him.

"Jillian's pulling some fucking bullshit and I'm done man. I'm so done. Bill strode over to my desk the same way Joan had, and plopped down. My eyebrows furrowed immediately.

Since when did I become this building's therapist?

-

By the time six rolled around, most of everyone was still at their desks working. There was another knock on my door and at this point I questioned whether I even wanted to fucking acknowledge it.

"What?" I called out, not even bothering to look up from my computer anymore.

"Well damn, we both had it bad today huh?"

My eyes ripped away from my screen to see Christian leaning against the door frame.

"Babe please fucking save me." I whined. Christians lips tugged up into a smile.

"I like that." He spoke.

"Like what?"

"The babe part. And the please fuck me part."

I chuckled at his sheer ridiculousness. "That's not what I said."

"Mm, you sure? That's what I heard. How strange." He pushed himself away from his position at my entryway, and made his way towards my desk. "This work day must be getting to me."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Let's actually talk about that. I don't know how I ended up becoming everyone's therapist for the last three hours. First Derek came up here to rant, then Joan did. That was pretty sweet cause I hadn't seen them all day... but then Bill from Accounting came up here to rant. After that, Emelie and David in customer service popped her head in to bitch to me. They were pretty short sessions, but I think I may have gone into the wrong profession here. Maybe therapy was my true calling. I'm reevaluating everything now."

Christian's hand clutched his chest. "Please don't play with my emotions like that. Quitting is not on the drop down options list. When the going gets tough, come find me. I'll fire whoever's giving you a hard time."

Sometimes all I could do was just look at this incredibly unreasonable man and smile. The part that scared me the most was how he wasn't joking.

"Christian, I think quitting is something I would decide." I clarified.

"Absolutely not." He replied almost immediately. "My heart would give out from the sheer agony of depression. I would fall into despair with quick deterioration."

What a fucking dramatic.

"But in relation to employees wandering in, that's on you. You got your door open and shades pulled up. You gotta be ruthless with these motherfuckers baby. When I'm not trying to be bothered, I make my office look like I moved the fuck out. Drop all them blinds. Lock the door. The building would have to be on fire before I opened that shit. Then just throw your phone to "in a meeting" status and call it a day."

I looked at Christian in complete shock and embarrassment. Why didn't I think of that? I guess I hadn't really known the visits would turn into therapy sessions. Here I was, thinking that all those employees had legitimate questions for me.

"These piranha of employees will eat you alive if you let them."

My fingers moved to massage my temples. "Thank you. I didn't know it was just that easy."

"I mean every once in a while, you get the occasional emergency where you gotta open it all up and face the shit show... but that's just learning to figure out what you can and cannot prioritize. Don't thank me yet though, I feel like I'm about to make your day worse."

I peered over at him. I didn't believe it was possible for today to get worse. "And why is that?"

"I was recently bombarded with a visit from Bridge at the end of last week. Brad and I also went to go see Vadik on Saturday."

I stood corrected. Today was most definitely going to get worse.

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