Like Real People Do

Epilogue

The one with the end and the beginning.

"You know, you're going to have to start having a life sooner or later."

I rolled my eyes at Leona's statement as I held my phone tighter to my ear and shifted closer to the train door. "What are you talking about? I have a life."

We have this argument about once a week, so I'm honestly not surprised the topic is being brought up. And maybe the reason I haven't actually bothered to come up with a suitable argument is because she's right.

She proved it by saying, "I mean something besides binge watching every single show on Netflix and eating entire pints of ice cream in one sitting."

"I don't do that," I replied automatically, despite the fact that she'd just described exactly how I spent the last two weekends.

I'd moved back to Seattle to essentially start over. But despite having every intention of making a new life for myself, I had very little interactions with people outside of work. Besides my dad, of course. Living in an apartment in the city that was less than an hour from my childhood home meant that I got to see my dad once a week for dinner. Which was great, because I finally felt like we were moving forward. Unfortunately, other than my weekly visits to the suburbs, I didn't leave my apartment much.

And Leona, who I missed dearly every single day, was well aware of that fact. I could practically see her rolling her eyes as she said, "I'm across the country and I know you're lying."

Sighing, I stepped off the train when it came to a stop, weaving my way through the crowd to the street level where my building sat. "I have to go in to work."

"Fine," Leona conceded, "Just maybe try doing something fun this weekend?"

"Fine," I sighed as I smiled gratefully at someone holding the door of the building open for me, knowing full well I probably wouldn't end up keeping that promise. "I really have to go."

"Love you."

I couldn't help but smile in response as I hurried towards the elevators, already looking forward to our next phone call. "Love you, too."

As usual, I was the first one to arrive at the office. I'd started working at Kipling & Reed about nine months ago and on my first day, I'd arrived super early because I wanted to make a good impression on my new bosses. I'd kept up that habit for the first few weeks and now it was a routine, because I enjoyed the thirty minutes of solitude before the chaos began.

Not that there was necessarily a lot of hustle and bustle. The architecture firm I'd mercifully been hired at – thanks to learning my lesson and not drinking any overly sweet beverages before entering the interview – was relatively small. And although my dreams coming out of grad school had been to work for one of the large firms, I'd found that I was much better suited to this environment. I knew all of my coworkers by name and I never felt uncomfortable asking for help if necessary.

Maybe Leona was right about me needing some new adventures, though. The next time that someone asked if I wanted to go to happy hour, I'd make sure to say yes.

The office employed a shared work space concept, so I didn't have a specific desk to call my own, but there was a table near the glass wall of windows that I quite enjoyed, so I claimed it by setting down my bag before heading to the break room to start a pot of coffee.

Once I'd retrieved my necessary caffeination level for the morning, I settled into my work. My first task was to check my emails for any updates on current projects or information on upcoming proposals. Next, I worked on site plan sketches and upcoming proposals for clients and called consultants to ensure current projects were going smoothly. I became so engrossed in the work that I ended up skipping lunch and I didn't realize this until about 1:30, when the combination of my stomach growling and my phone buzzing pulled me out of my work induced trance.