could use the time to plan out a strategy of how to undermine these idiots. Maybe it was best to just nurse my wounds.
“Fine,” I grumbled under my breath. I let the prospect of vengeance cool my soul. “Fine. Glad we won the contract, sir. I could actually use a little time off.”
“See,” said Roger, brightening up, “now that’s the spirit. Take as much time as you need, Olympia, we need you here in top shape. This will be a big job.”
Yes, I thought, this will be a big job.
§
Taking off early, I managed to get home quickly and was well through a second bottle of wine and curled up with Mr. Tweedles on my couch when night began to fall. An unusual early snow had started outside, and I watched squalls of snowflakes begin sweeping by in the streets outside through my large bay window.
The stress of the day had hardly abated. Even after polishing off the first bottle, I was having a hard time concentrating on a new romance novel I’d started. My mind was shifting back to plotting the downfall of Bertram and my boss.
Mr. Tweedles started purring and rubbing up against me. I’d been enjoying cuddling with him, but he’d rolled over onto his back, inviting me to scratch his tummy. I kicked him off the couch.
Sighing, I picked up two sleeping pills from the drawer in my coffee table, and taking a deep breath I washed them down with a mouthful of wine. Lighting up my last cigarette for the night, I called up Kenny.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied instantly, appearing with a careful smile in my primary display space. I bet he’d heard about my little incident today. I bet I was the talk of the office.
I’d show them.
“Kenny, look, could you set my pssi to filter out anything that I find annoying, until you hear different from me?” If I have some time off, I reasoned, I may as well try to depressurize and make the most of the tools at my disposal.
“Sure,” he replied, “I guess I could do that.”
“I’ll just ping you if I need anything, okay?”
“Sounds good, no problem,” he responded, and then added, “and hey, enjoy the time off, okay boss?”
If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn he was being genuine. I clicked him out of my sensory spaces without another word and got up off the couch, drunker than I thought I was, to wander into my bedroom and collapse on the bed.
9
OH MY HEAD hurt. I groggily lifted it off the sheets and waited while my blurry vision adjusted to the half darkness of my bedroom. It was still early and I didn’t need to be up for work.
Wait a minute, it was Saturday. Finally, the weekend. As memories seeped into my brain, I realized that I didn’t need to go back to work this whole week, perhaps longer. Screw it. I flopped my head back onto my pillow and called out weakly for Mr. Tweedles.
“Hey, kitty kitty,” I called out, but without response. That was odd. Ah well. I conked back out.
In what seemed like moments later, bright light began streaming in through the window. It must have been fully morning. My head ached dully, so I flopped out of bed and made for the kitchen to get a glass of cold water.
Mr. Tweedles was still nowhere to be seen. Did I let him out last night? I didn’t usually let him out since he was a house cat, but I had been a little drunk.
Downing a tall, cool glass of water, I immediately felt refreshed. I should go for a run, I thought to myself. That would burn off some stress and get the gears going. There was nothing like a good run to fire up the imagination, and my mind was already cycling with ways to get back at Bertram and my boss.
So I moved back off to my bedroom to put on some cool weather sports gear, and moments later I was off jogging down my street, drinking in the cool autumn air and enjoying the crisp bite of the year’s first frost burning off in the early sunshine.
I admired the scenery, completely devoid of any ads, the streets sparkling and walls scrubbed clean, with no vagrants to spoil