The shiny new umbrella from Melanie still leaned against my front door when I woke up the next morning, a small but meaningful reminder that maybe the Universe wasn't entirely conspiring against me. I took it as a sign that today would be better—or at least less catastrophic.
Determined to hold onto the optimism for as long as I could, I decided to start the day right by making myself the ultimate pick-me-up: I'd packed a lunch. A real lunch. Not a granola bar, not vending machine pretzels, but an actual sandwich.
Turkey, cheddar, lettuce, tomato, and just the right amount of mustard on a fresh baguette. I'd spent a good twenty minutes assembling it like a masterpiece, complete with a little foil wrap that had a tiny heart doodled on it for no one but myself.
"Today's the day, Alex," I told myself in the mirror as I adjusted my tie. "You're going to eat a good lunch, and nothing is going to ruin it."
The office was surprisingly calm when I arrived. Even Harris was unusually subdued, though I chalked it up to him finally running out of obnoxious anecdotes to share. Mr. Strickland was holed up in his office, which meant I could settle in without the usual tension of his looming presence.
Around 11:45 a.m., my stomach started sending polite reminders that it was nearing time for the main event. I decided to wait until noon, savoring the anticipation. But as I opened my inbox, a dreaded email popped up: "Mandatory Team Meeting – 12:00 PM Sharp."
Of course. I sighed, grabbed my notepad, and trudged to the conference room, where Harris had already claimed the best chair—the one that didn't squeak. The meeting was predictably useless. Charts, buzzwords, and a painfully long metaphor from Strickland about "sowing the seeds of synergy."
By the time we wrapped up, it was nearly 1:00 p.m., and I was starving. I rushed to the break room, eager to reclaim my sandwich from the fridge. But when I opened the door, my heart sank. The shelf where I'd left it was empty.
"Looking for something?" Harris's voice drifted over. I turned to see him holding... my sandwich.
"Harris," I said slowly, trying to keep my cool, "that's my lunch."
"Oh, is it?" He took an exaggerated bite, chewing with all the enthusiasm of a man who lived to irritate others.
I stared at him, a mix of disbelief and hunger-fueled rage bubbling up. "Are you serious right now?"
"It's just a sandwich, Harper," he said, crumbs falling onto his keyboard as he sauntered back to his desk.
Just a sandwich? That was my sandwich. My perfect, mustard-balanced, foil-wrapped slice of happiness. I clenched my fists and muttered under my breath, "Breathe, Alex. It's not worth getting fired over."
The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze of spreadsheets and passive-aggressive stares at Harris. I thought about going out to grab something else for lunch, but my pride wouldn't let me.
By the time 5:00 p.m. rolled around, I was lightheaded from hunger and ready to call it a day. As I packed up my things, Harris walked by, patting his stomach.
"Great sandwich, by the way," he said with a smirk.
I smiled thinly, already plotting my revenge. Tomorrow, I'd pack two sandwiches. One for me, and one that would insure Harris would never take my lunch from me ever again.
YOU ARE READING
The Unlikely Rise of Alex Harper
Humor"The Unlikely Rise of Alex Harper" is the story of a man who can't seem to catch a break. He's not crazy-just caught in a universe that seems determined to make everything go wrong. With an eccentric cast of characters, including the perpetually clu...
