Things We Said Today

Chapter Twenty-Five

I dotted at the purplish bags under my eyes with a bit of concealer. It didn't do much to make me look more awake or alive, but at least it slightly dulled the horrendous color my skin there had taken on over the past few days.

I shrugged my coat on, then grabbed my work bag and shuffled out of my room. Nora was standing idly in the hallway, scrolling absently on her phone, and trying to appear as though she hadn't been waiting for me to emerge from what had come to be my asylum.

"Hey." She attempted to keep her voice nonchalant, but it was just a decibel too high to be believable. "Do you want to get drinks after work or something?"

"Probably not." I muttered while shoving my feet into my despicable looking work loafers.

"Oh." She nodded weakly, "Okay, well let me know if you change your mind. I can always meet you halfway between my office and yours."

"Okay." I uttered reflexively as I pulled the front door open and stepped outside.

It was cold. February was turning out to be much more frigid than our abnormally warm January had been. I hated February. It was the worst month. And not only because of the gross Hallmark holiday that was just around the corner. February was usually when you realized that the new year would be just like all the ones before it. February was when people stopped trying to adhere to their new diets or workout routines or hobbies. February was for disappointment.

I shoved myself into the Muni train when it rumbled to a stop across from Richard Gamble Memorial Park. I had my headphones on, but nothing was playing from them. They just slightly dulled the noise of the screeching train as it sped through the tunnel toward Duboce.

I hadn't seen Jude since Sunday. It was Thursday. Apparently, he had been scheduled for a meeting with Martin on Monday, but he had rescheduled it... to Thursday.

I dreaded having to see him, while a part of me that I was trying to bury deep down ached to be in the same room as him again. I wanted him to ignore me, so I wouldn't have to repeat the same spiel I had been reciting to myself in my head for the past four days. I knew, though, that if he did ignore me, I would desperately yearn for even an ounce of his attention. I was a walking paradox. A fucking idiot.

I exited the train at 2nd and King, feeling like I was in a dream as I made my way to Blue Bottle. You know how when you're walking in a dream, you never see your feet? You kind of just float from place to place with no recollection of how you got there. That's how I felt that morning. Like a floating caricature of myself.

I dropped my bag off at my desk once I found myself in the building, then carried Martin's coffee to his office, where he was typing away furiously on his laptop.

"Here you go." I heard myself say as I set the cup down on his desk.

I turned back around mechanically, like I already had the day programmed into my brain and was simply going through the motions. Martin stopped me, though, by letting out an exaggerated exhale and a curt snap of my name.

"Yes sir?" I turned back around to find him staring at me like I had slapped him or something equally offensive.

"The folder." He pointed to the edge of his desk where a thick manuscript sat. "What did I tell you about this?! You're supposed to check my desk for a folder each morning and if there is one it's your responsibility to grab it!" He spat out, his head seeming to double in size like one of those eighties' cartoons.

I was too tired to feel any sense of shame or embarrassment. I just uttered out a sorry and grabbed the folder, retreating out of the office in that strange floating haze.