Dead Ends // Hugh Jackman

Chapter 2

I take it all back. I can't do it. What was I thinking?

I didn't account for my job. How busy it would be throughout the week. It takes up so much of my day, I don't know where I'll be able to squeeze in the time to write let alone do volunteer work.

I'd like to say that I haven't already gone to N&B and bought a planner but that would be a lie. It was the first and easiest task to complete. If you asked me how the rest of the checklist is going, I'd tell you setting goals and dates of when to accomplish them is biting me in the ass.

I don't know how to be realistic or exactly what I'm capable of achieving. I thought I'd get farther down the list before getting stuck. Maybe I should start small. The smaller they are, then maybe I can trick my brain into thinking it's more manageable.

I'll have to do it later though. Work has become such a pain. Freelancing is great in terms of scheduling, but the pay isn't, which is why I have my brother as a roommate. Between the two of us, he has more income, but I compensate by doing housework. He makes most of the mess, and I clean it. He also pays most of the rent, so all in all I guess it's an even trade.

There's no need to worry about that. I'm staring at my laptop for another reason. I get hired by companies to transcribe audios of their meetings. This is my third year, and though I haven't had much experience in this particular line of work, I've made an exceptional impression on the business that I'm currently converting voice to text for. I'm not at liberty to discuss who it is or what they talk about in their meetings. The contract I signed has an NDA clause. If I break it, I don't get paid, and depending on how sensitive the information is, I could also get sued, so I should leave it at that.

All I'll say is that this recording has a duration of almost 2 hours. I've never transcribed an audio this long before. Even a short 10 minute clip can take from anywhere around a quarter to half an hour. This will take up most of my day. I can already feel the headache brewing, and I have yet to put my headphones on and listen to it.

"Milo?" I call out for my brother.

I have this rule. If he hasn't left for work, I don't start my own. He's not exactly silent, and I'd rather not spend more time on this than is necessary.

I'm good at what I do. I type with minimal errors, have a 110 WPM, and sharp hearing. That is as long as there are no distractions around.

"Milo, are you still here?"

I give it a few minutes, and sure enough I hear him respond back.

"Yeah, I'm here. I'll be leaving in a few."

Not a second later, something falls to the floor followed by swearing and then a thud.

I sigh. Right on schedule. I don't bother asking if he's okay. He should've learned not to leave his dress shoes so close to his bed. They end up getting pushed under the frame as he walks around, and when he bends down to reach them, he ends up hitting his head on it.

As he walks out of his room and into the lounge area where I'm sitting on the couch, I shake my head at him.

"Don't say it," he continues nonchalantly, grabbing his blazer off the recliner adjacent from me and sliding it on.

I give him a pointed look. "Is it really so hard to take your shoes off by the door? There's a rack there for a reason."

Milo distorts his face in a mocking manner, repeating what I said in a voice that doesn't sound like me at all, then adds on, "I get home tired. It's just easier to slip them off in my room."

"Doesn't matter," I dispute. "You track in mud sometimes and scuff up the floor."

He shoots me a teasing grin. "That's what you're here for."