A new leaf

It has been brought to my attention that I am "too Victorian" in my writings. As someone who not only welcomes but actively encourages criticism (constructive or otherwise) I have decided that today's postings will be Hemingwayesque. I'm not sure if this is the start of a grand tradition (p'raps tomorrow I'll channel Dave Eggers -- nah, I'm not that cool. Anyway...) but it's what the people want and as such, it is what the people shall get!

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It was usually pretty quiet around the cube. That is unless the dolls started talking. Then it got loud. The subdued yet constant chat like pigeons not quite sure if they're ready to roost but at the same time unwilling to call it a night. The dolls were quiet now. Waiting. Watching. Chick noticed that one of them was having a hard time making eye contact. Chick didn't care. She was used to the silence. The quiet, accusing "we 'belong' to you?!" that hovered in the air between her (to them anyway) grotesque typing humanity and their painted vinyl perfection. The question was mostly unspoken but acknowledged nonetheless. Chick surveyed the landscape. She played with her stapler for a minute, just to teach the dolls a lesson, then glanced at her to-do list. There was only one thing on it that she was actually interested in. The rest she considered "busywork". In the grand scheme of things, Chick supposed, it was all "busywork." Chick had some more coffee. Boss #3 pinged her with a query. Chick liked Boss #3. She thought he was smart. There were others in the office who were beginning to warm up to him as well. To appreciate his slighty skewed yet methodical coding. Chick was secure in her fondness though. After all, she had liked him first.

"Move buttons to SourceSafe" she read aloud from the list. Chick wondered what would happen if she didn't move the buttons. What if her OS decided to take a holiday and she lost her life's work, or worse, the client's files? Chick sighed and sat back. She missed her kid. Wednesdays were the worst. Nothing but work, cats, and sleep between her and her 5:30 pick-up the next day. 5:30 on Thursdays. That's when her life began again. This? This "in-between" time? This was busywork. "I've discovered a theme for my life!" she announced to the dolls but they'd stopped listening. Chick took another swig of coffee. There was a bake sale going on in the kitchen. Chick's contribution had been two pans of brownies. Now she wondered if maybe she shouldn't have left one of the batches at home, so she could eat it tonight. While she waited on the couch, with the cats, for the day to finally be over.