Things to do:
1. Call Sofia re: mailings
2. Talk to boss about taking next Monday off
3. Find my mug
4. Clean desk if it will help me find my mug
5. Review quarterly reports
6. Review quarterly reports
7. Review quarterly reports
8. Jerk off in the bathroom....?
That's it. That's when I know I've reached my limit. I'm making lists for myself of what I need to do instead of actually doing it. This is how I procrastinate, now that I've realized that the boss knows I tend to play FreeCell and chew on my hair when I'm bored and I don't feel like doing any work.
Earlier today, I was in the middle of one of my very intimate FreeCell sessions, making sure that each card went where it was supposed to go and pressing F2 to start a new game whenever I got frustrated. All of a sudden I felt a warm hand on my back. It belonged to El Bosso.
"Miranda," he said. "When will you get those reports in to me?"
I swiveled in my desk chair to look up at him. "Ummm.... I'm working on it."
"I see you're working on a pretty intense string of FreeCell games right now."
"Indeed," I said. I couldn't think of anything else to say.
"I want them by 3. I have client meetings the rest of the afternoon and I don't want to have to stay any later than I have to. I want to give them a once-over before I go home to the wife and kids. Got it?"
"Got it," I said.
Matt Hutchins, my boss, struck me as exactly that—a wife and kids kind of guy. He wasn't particularly handsome—wide-shouldered, yes, but his hairline had receded like a sea at low tide and his whole head of hair was thinning. My friends and I always judged dick length based on both width of shoulders and amount of hair, and, in Matt's case, I was not sure if the two cancelled each other out or if one was more overpowering than the other.
But today was not the kind of day to think about such things. Today was, in fact, a terrible day. An awful day. A terrible, horrible, no-good very-bad day, to steal a title from one of my favorite children's books. Hannah was continuing to act as though I was invisible. I saw her making copies earlier today, and, as I went to get myself some coffee, made a quick grab at her breasts. She gave me a look like I was death myself.
"Come on," I said. "Nobody saw."
Hannah continued to stare at me for a few more shameful seconds, and then proceeded to look down at the Xerox machine.
"What's up with you and Hannah?" my coworker Andrew asked later on.
"Nothing, nothing," I said, but it was clear from the tone of my voice that that wasn't true.
"Really. Something I should know about?"
"Just guy stuff, Andrew. It will take care of itself."
Technically, it wasn't a lie. Hannah and I did share Jared with each other only a few days ago, and I did believe the matter would take care of itself. Just like there are people who can stop smoking for a few days and can't really ever quit, Hannah, I believed, is human, and though she might be angry at herself or at me now she'll eventually come back around, on her knees, begging for more.
I was in the middle of this fantasy, this Hannah, at my knees, powerless, begging, and my pussy started to quiver the slightest bit. Shit, I thought to myself. Not now. Work time. Gotta work. And that's when I started making the to-do list.
***
When I work, and I actually sit down and do it, I'm actually very expedient, because I was able to get done what I wanted to get done, or at least most of it. I had been able to get the reports that Matt wanted in by 3, and even though he claimed to have client meetings the rest of the day he was still able to come over and dump another pile of stuff on my desk. It was already 4:30, near quitting time, and I was planning for a date with my vibrator.
"I want these done," Matt said to me. "And I want them done tonight."
"But Matt..."
"I don't care. You were fooling around for the first three hours of work today, certainly you can't expect to leave here without making those last three hours tonight."
I looked at him with the most pleading eyes I could make. "Please? I mean..."
"No excuses," Matt said, and walked away.
"He sure is a shitbag, that one," said my deskmate Chloe. "I didn't think he was going to be that hard on ya."
"It's okay, I'll get it done," I said. "Shit happens, but if I put up too much of a fight, it will only get worse."