You Can’t Escape

This was her alone time. A brief respite in the barrage of questions tasks. She had an half hour in the day to do whatever she wanted. Sometimes she skipped it in favor of getting some chore done, but it always helped with mental wellness. It was a chance to collect her thoughts and fix her face. A minute to assess the morning, the self, everything and pick up the shattered pieces and put on a pleasant face for the last half of the day.

It was also a chance to refuel. To scarf down some food before returning to whatever back breaking task she had to look forward to. Too heavy and the prospect of returning to work felt unappealing. It was hard to finish the day when all you wanted to do was sleep and digest. A salad, or something small however, was just what was called for. Kevin could eat a whole meal. Good for him. She wasn’t sure how he did it, but she knew it wasn’t for her. She had subsisted through the morning on a piece of fruit and an energy bar, plus, she had made the salad just how she liked it.

Her car was quiet and comfortable. She could hide away from customers and employees alike. It wasn’t ideal. Ideal would have been independent wealth and a lunch overlooking the estate. That was never going to happen though. So, she would settle for the cramped conditions of her Trax and a salad she made last night. She had even found happiness in it so long as she was left alone. Disturbing her would disrupt the entire ritual. Disruption put her in a foul mood for the rest of the day.

It was her time. Her chance to escape the monotony. She loved her job, but even a good job that you enjoyed could wear on you. It was the pressure. Mason rarely said anything, but that was because she put enough pressure on herself. Pressure to be thorough, accurate, pleasant, mindful, efficient. Whatever is was, she obsessed over it to the point it caused medical problems. Mason had chided her for causing herself to get an ulcer. At first, he blamed himself, but she assured him that it was her. That while he organized a schedule it was never too much and that her anxiety was the culprit.

She just wanted to be a good employee. Mason told her over and over that she was. That she was the best and her work and attention to detail were unmatched. But, he was just being nice. She could be better, do more. At least, that’s what she told herself. The other workers cared less, but they were all really young. Most of them were just floating through on their way to somewhere else. Somewhere they could give themselves ulcers.

She had just closed her eyes. She wouldn’t fall asleep. Not really. But a few minutes of shut eye could do wonders. The time was short, but often the eating was hurried for a chance to shut her eyes. Now, that was being disturbed. She chose quickly between annoyed and resigned, chose resigned, sighed, and opened her eyes. It was Ashley. She was waving and smiling, though her face was apologetic. She knew what she was doing, and she wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t important. Still, it was really annoying.

Marcella pressed the button to lower her window. She only cracked it a little. The cool air was on and she didn’t want to face the heat just yet. The glass also signaled that she was being interrupted. Of course, Ashley knew that. Despite her irritating positivity and her cavalier attitude she was a good enough kid. Mason always reminded her that they were the aging veterans, and what it was like to be young and irresponsible.

“What.” Marcella said dryly. Whatever it was would not be pleasant.

“Sorry to bother you on you lunch, but Tim needs you.”

“I was almost done anyway.” Marcella replied. She wasn’t. She had another ten minutes. That time could be stretched to feel kingly. When it was over, it always felt too short, but she probably would have felt the same about an hour.

She closed the window and turned off the car.