Valentine

Chapter 1: Birthday Surprise

As I step into my office, the dull hum of fluorescent lights overhead sets the tone for what promises to be another unremarkable day. It's my birthday, and the end of the week, yet the weight of responsibility tugs at me. I pull my well-worn binder from the shelf – a reliable companion in my daily grind.

The routine is my anchor in this sea of monotony, a choreographed dance I've perfected over time. In the world of predictability, I find a strange comfort. Boredom is my ally, a shield against the unpredictable chaos of life.

I reminisce about career day during my formative years, where dreams of grandeur danced in my head. Now, as an adult, the simplicity of a decent living eclipses those ambitious fantasies. The glamour of being a movie star or a model, constantly judged on appearance or the pressure to outdo past achievements, is a realm I'm content to avoid.

My job demands little, and that's precisely what's celebrated. Meeting expectations is my forte; exceeding them by a mere 10% is hailed as remarkable. Some might view this lack of passion as a sad state of affairs, but for me, it's a conscious choice.

I navigated the path of minimal debt and landed in a well-paying job through planning, a trait I cultivated when no one else would do it for me. Thoughts of my parents and the choices that led me here flit through my mind, but I redirect my focus to the task at hand. It's my birthday, and I have work to do – no time for familial reflections.

Lost in the comforting embrace of numbers, I immerse myself in the puzzles they present. They are constants in a world that can be unpredictable. They don't change six months down the line, unlike some aspects of life that can catch you off guard.

Time slips away unnoticed until a throat clearing interrupts my numerical reverie. My supervisor, Claire, stands at my office door, a mild scowl etched on her face. It seems I've lost track of time again.

"Stella, have you taken your lunch break yet?" she asks, her tone a blend of concern and annoyance. Glancing at the clock, I realize it's nearly time to leave, and I wouldn't have the luxury of clocking back in if I stepped out now.

Apologizing, I acknowledge my oversight. Claire, taking my silence as an answer, advises me to set an alarm for breaks. She chuckles as she walks away, leaving me to wrap up my day in haste.

As I prepare to leave, Claire catches up with me. "Just clock out and go home," she suggests, unaware of the meticulous routine I follow before the weekend. Her directive sends a shiver down my spine – leaving early on a Friday without completing my checklist feels like tempting fate.

Quickly attending to the essentials, I approach her office, informing her of my departure. She doesn't bother to look up, instructing me to enjoy my birthday and, surprisingly, to let loose for once.

If only she knew the me from college or high school. Letting loose has never been my forte; lessons learned from the past echo in my mind as I exit, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity about what the evening might hold.