Christian Ivanov and Alexander Hamilton have finally found each other.
But it wouldn't be love, if every universal force imaginable wasn't hell bent on breaking these two up before their romance has even really begun.
Among the lies, the family sec...
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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.
