I was sitting at my desk staring at the heading of the report I was supposed to be writing. But I had no idea how I was supposed to do it. My supervisor had been very short with her trainings and had made it very clear that questions were only to be asked if I had absolutely NO OTHER WAY to find out the information. I usually was a fast learner; usually I could find the information. But I had read three of the previous reports and I still had no idea how to begin this one.
Partially it had to be because I was a little afraid of her. With her perfect mix of professional badass and femme fatale I was stunned. I usually made friends with women easily. Even the few I had been more than friends with- it came easily. With her I was sure nothing was easy.
I twirled in my office chair. Having my own office was a nice perk, even if I was sure it wasn't going to last. I might as well start looking for another job because there was no way this was going to work out. I knew the last guy had been fired for incompetence. I had laughed when I was told sure I would be much better. But now? Was it possible to meet her standards? I caught a glance at my blank screen. Definitely impossible it I didn't do any work.
The clocked ticked to 11:30. I wasn't getting anything done so I might as well take lunch. I grabbed my bag and headed toward the door. Right when I was locking the glass I saw a flash of red. I tried to hurry I thought I remembered that she was wearing red today. Her office was right across from mine, and with the mostly glass construction there was little hiding.
I was too slow.
"Did you finish the report?" I froze, keys still in my hand.
"Not quite, I hope to have it to you by this afternoon." I winced as I spoke. There was no way I would have it finished by the time she left at 4:00 sharp.
"Perfect, just send me your draft before you leave for lunch." She turned back to her screen.
Fuck.
There was no way out of this. I had a heading and I had to send it to her right now? I figured I could spend my lunch hour applying to jobs, at least my resume was still updated- maybe a few of the offers I had turned down were still looking for people.
I unlocked my door even more slowly than I had locked it. I had to think of something. Maybe she just wanted to see a page count- I could send her one of the older ones- or! Even better I could send her what I had, and lie and tell her it wasn't the current version. Perfect.
I perched in my office chair and fired up the computer. The blank page was staring back at me but I was ready.
File - save as - April reporting v1 - attach - send.
Perfectly done. Now when I returned, if she had opened the file, I could let her know I was already working on version two and something must have gotten mixed up in the editing.
Confidant I had saved my ass for the moment I headed out again.
"Just sent!" I called out through her open door as I sashayed past.
"We'll discuss when you return." She didn't even look up and I still almost tripped, from the fear. So she fully intended to read it and from what I had heard about her whatever she intended to do got done. I almost giggled to myself, it wouldn't take long for her to read it at least.
My self-satisfaction was very short lived. Right when I sat down in the create-your-own-salad place with my salad with way too many toppings my work phone pinged with the email sound. I knew what it was before I even pulled it from my bag. My freedom had lasted less than 15 minutes.
"There is something wrong with the attachment. Please send the correct version at your earliest convenience "
FUCK
Again. My earliest convenience, like in a few weeks when I had actually learned how to write a report. I may have fudged the truth in my interview just a bit, I did have experience writing reports, like for college, not for this large of an organization and then they had believed me! I was so screwed.
My salad looked even less appealing than it had before. I carefully placed the top back on and stood. Maybe if I snuck back into the office I could write something quickly to send her. Something incorrect was better than nothing right?
~*~
The door to her office was closed when I returned. She was in the office though I could see her speaking on the phone to someone. Probably to schedule the interview for my replacement.
I quickly slid in the door to my office and started up the computer. I still didn't know where to start and the page remained as blank as it had been before. I watched as the clock ticked down the minutes until the end of my lunch. 45 minutes, then 30- I still thought I could do it as the clock ticked down to 15- I was a fast writer and it was a shortish report. I could write the three pages in 15 minutes, or one and a half and turn it in as a draft! I could do it- if I had any idea of what to write.
10 minutes- 5 minutes- there was no way. I put my head in my hands there had to be some other way out of this. Maybe I could say that I was sick. Just leave the office and write it at home- but I had told her I already had something. I could cry and tell her the computer had deleted it- but then I would be expected to rewrite it in an even shorter amount of time. Or- I could tell the truth and just get fired on my own terms.
Double fuck.
I had gone back to spinning in my chair when there was a sharp knock at my door.
"Come in" I couldn't even look at her.
"I didn't receive your report. You said you were familiar with Microsoft office, Macs, and report writing. I expect you have some reason why I don't have it?" Her voice was clipped but there was still something so- compelling about it, it was lower than most women's but still so deeply feminine even when just this side of scolding.
I turned my head to look at her. Her hair was pulled up into some kind of complicated bun, but there were wisps framing her face and a pen stuck in the middle. It should have looked messy but somehow just made her look more efficient. Her makeup was subtle, but her suit was the color of fresh blood. Her silk blouse was black, and her shoes were beautiful. Some kind leather and much higher and more stiletto-y than strictly appropriate for the office. Even her arches rising above the sides of the shoes were beautiful and I didn't even like feet like that.
"Did you hear me?"