Armageddon

V

I give Charlie a fruit salad and remind him that he still hasn't given some of my bowls back.

"I'll gid them back," he tries to reassure me, and I eye him suspiciously.

"You'd better not have sold my fucking bowls, Charlie!" I glare at him. He shrinks.

"Naaa, naaa! I doy sell them!" he screams nervously, and I soften my glare.

"Okay but bring them back already. Why don't you give them to me after you're done using them, anyway?"

I walk to my car. He smiles, but I don't stay to watch as I start making my way towards the CBD. This is it then; my first day at work, and the wheel keeps slipping under my grip dangerously.

Is this the most nervous I've ever been?

Well, I've never really had a job before, so I guess it makes sense that I would be nervous. I mean, finally! I get to be part of the real world!

I always thought I would be totally fine with no job and just freelancing, but I felt my mind slowly fall into disuse as I stayed with losers, smoking weed and drinking till we couldn't see straight.

I have a lot of respect to people who make it work for them.

Is social order as natural as we make it out to be, or have we just been conditioned to think that way after thousands of years of socialisation?

I wish I had found a job at the same time as Edward - then, we could've shared in the excitement together. I always wondered if Edward got a job before me because he's a man or if he really deserved it. I mean, the company that took him only accepted one woman and four men that year. It really disgusted me that Edward took the job to begin with, and I had to work hard to see him as I did before.

Again, the glass mammoth comes into view, and I give the guard at the gate my employees' card. I park in the same spot as yesterday and check myself out in the mirror. Maybe they should consider signing this spot: 'Edgar.' Content with my appearance, I walk to reception.

"Mister Wright is waiting for you in his office," the receptionist informs me as I walk in.

I nod in her direction as acknowledgement, and I make my way to the elevator. Pressing the button to the top floor, I blow air out in frustration as I steal a glance at my wristwatch - which tells me that I have only two minutes to get to my destination in the time my boss had stipulated.

One foot goes in front of the other in such quick succession, I'm surprised that I don't break into a sprint. I knock on Oscar's door and step inside when I'm granted permission.

"Miss Brown! I was starting to think I'd have to fire you!" he tells me as my heels clank on the granite, and I slowly make my way to his desk.

Intimidation I tell you!

I check my watch to see that it's only 08:01. "But-I'm only a minute late."

"I'm just joking!" we share a laughter - confident on his end, awkward on mine. He turns to the young girl. "I need you to draft a written warning and have it delivered to her cubicle before the end of the day."

What? This has to be a nightmare!

"Mister Wright, I'm only late by a minute."

"And that's a minute of my time wasted." His gaze is hard on me, daring me to challenge him. "Trust me, it's better this way. It has something to do with accountability; I don't know."

What is happening?

"Now, let me take you to meet your senior."

Before I know it, I'm running after him down the corridor - barely able to keep up. I wonder if I'll get another ridiculous written warning for not keeping up. After what just happened a few minutes ago (note: I'm still not sure exactly what happened a few minutes ago), I'm convinced that is a possibility.