Wanting My Assistant

Chapter 4

   My head hurts. My eyes begging for some shut eye. My wrist is killing me, writing so much today and reading has truly taken a toll on me.

   I'm exhausted.

Only a few more pages and then I can walk home. Maybe Ryan can come pick me up? So I don't have to walk.

It's dark and silent in the building. Everyone has left, I'm pretty sure I'm the only other person in this building. A heavy sigh leaves me, my eyes heavy with sleepiness. My handwriting is eligible which is the only thing I care about right now.

I haven't had coffee since this morning and I'm feeling it. I could fall asleep on this desk right now. Hell, I want to fall asleep on this desk.

The amount of work Dawson's given me is driving me into shut down. I haven't had lunch and I definitely skipped dinner too. There's no way I'm going to eat anything when I get home either, I'm probably going to sit on the couch and pass out completely.

Maybe I can stop at a coffee shop before I walk home?

My eyes glance at my watch and I almost cry. Nothings going to be open. It's 10 fucking 23. PM!

I can do this.

   No I can't. I'm a bad fucking lier.

I only have five papers left. Then I can drop them off in Dawson's office and leave.

Only five more papers.

—~•~—

I take the pen and grip it tightly in my hand, signing off the companies name one last time. The second the pen hits the wood my eyes feel heavy and I want to cry with relief of finishing all this damn paperwork.

The office chair rolls back on the floor silently, my hair falling over my shoulders messily. I stripped off my high heels and jacket and unbuttoned my shirt down to the bottom of my bra to hopefully get a little comfortable. My hands grip the fucking huge stack of finished paperwork. If this paperwork was human I'd strangle it.

But, nobody else is here so I don't have to worry about the way I look.

I'm going to be way to tired to get up for my run tomorrow morning.

My hand lands on the cold glass of my office door and I pull in a large breath of air as the door swings open, my eyes closing for a split second before slowly walking my way to the elevator. Every step I take feels like I'm dragging my feet. The carpet is hard and tough beneath my feet, each step making me groan with the amount of energy it's taking to reach the elevator. I need coffee or sleep. I don't fucking care at this point.

   If this is the type of work load I get on a daily basis I might actually start sleeping here. I don't want to do this much paperwork but obviously I have no choice. The lights are off in the hallways and by the café, everything dark and quiet around me. No one's here and that honestly makes me feel relaxed.

   The elevator button lights up with the dim white again, the sound of it moving feeling slow like my work day. My heads pounding with a headache and I really want to fall asleep.

   The large gold doors open wide with way to loud of a ding. A wince mars my tired face before I step into the elevator, the weird textured flooring cold on my bare feet.

   You can be disgusted all you want for me going barefoot in a public office. But my feet hurt like the depths of hell.