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Like every preceding day, I sat, pinioned to be desk, staring dumbly at the computer screen. I could feel the rods and cones behind my eyes as they writhed in agony.
Neolithic was more my style. I'd certainly have been a bit more jubilant as a cave man and not as a person trapped in the middle of a technological revolution, relegated to my tiny office cubicle--delegated to push papers until I keel over and the janitor hauls my body out as someone else takes my place. God, how I hate work.
"Hi, Joe!"
Hearing my name, I looked up and saw Bob's cheery, annoying little head poking around the wall between our work spaces.
"Hi, Bob," I said back to him. "Hey, Bob, what's your secret?"
"Huh?"
"How do you stay all nicey-nice when all we ever do is work our asses off all day long? It's like we're slaves, man. I feel like I'm gonna kill somebody." I wiped a bead of sweat off my forehead and loosened the tie from around my neck.
"Slaves, huh? Well, whenever I get mad, Joe, I just sit down and take a deep breath. I try to gain an understanding of what it is that's bothering me." Joe's cheery little head disappeared momentarily. When it popped back up he was holding a glass fish bowl. "Would you like to be with Norm for a little while? He can cheer you up."
"Who's Norm?" I asked him. I was doubtful that anyone short of 5'5" and gorgeous could have cheered me up.
Bob set the fish bowl on top of my monitor. If he knocks that over, I thought, I'll strangle him and hide the body behind the ceiling tiles.
Purple pebbles lined the bottom of the bowl and above them a little goldfish swam in circles, rhythmically opening and closing his mouth. It looked like he was trying to say something. I squinted my eyes and watched the fish's lips. It looked like he was saying "help me." I know how you feel, little fish.
"Bob, you know the office policy on pets," I said. "Do you want to lose your job?" Bob didn't care. Bob was too cheery to care.
"Joe, meet Norm. Norm, meet Joe." Bob ducked back down into his cubicle and disappeared. I picked Norm and his bowl up and set them next to the computer. At least Bob the happy sock-puppet is gone, I thought.
"Hello, Norm," I said. "You been working here long?" His little orange body swam around in circles. "Is that a yes or a no, then?" Still no answer. I looked at my watch; it was only morning. "Doesn't matter," I said. "We're both stuck here for a long time."
The day stretched on, and after that, the day continued to stretch on. The day had stretched so far that it was finally lunchtime. I was famished but didn't go down to the cafeteria. That would have risked the chance that Mr. Happy-Head would have wanted to have lunch with me.
It's time to all on the reserve supply of food, I thought. I opened a drawer and pulled out a bag of potato chips.
"You don't want any, do you, Norm?" I asked. Norm opened and closed his mouth in response. "I didn't think so. You don't look like you eat much."
I voraciously crunched away at my potato chips. Potato chips make you thirsty.
"You don't look thirsty, Norm." I sipped my morning's cold coffee; it was all I had. Then I stopped. I had heard something, which was odd because everyone had gone down to lunch.
I'm not alone, I thought. I mean besides you, Norm. I poked my head up above my cubicle to look
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