AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter One
Existential Dread on a Thursday Morning at the Office
Well, it was official: I was the most boring man on Earth.
I’d suspected it for a while, but it hit me in a staggering rush when I got into work one morning on a random Thursday. I set down the coffee I got every single day—plain black, because I avoided dairy—on my desk, took off my suit jacket, sat and frowned at the armrest that had been loose for years, then turned on my computer.
My cubicle buddy, Lance, spun around in his chair and cheerfully said, “Mornin’, Taylor. Time to make the donuts,” just like he had every single morning for the past twelve years.
And just like I also had every single morning for the past twelve years, I chuckled and replied, “Not too many, I hope. Watching my figure.”
Then it hit me, and I had a mini existential crisis at my desk.
This is it. This is my life.
I spent ten minutes picking out my tie this morning. I ironed my underpants even though no one ever sees them but me.
I’m going to die here.
I stared in silence at my monitor as the computer booted up. When the login screen appeared, muscle memory kicked in and I typed out my password automatically.
Even my password was boring. TH-workstation-348.
The desktop loaded, HutSec Corporation’s white-and-yellow logo taking centre stage against a dark blue background. Other people in the office had personalised their desktops. Vacation photos, pictures of their kids or friends or family, images of quirky fictional logos from cartoons or TV shows. I’d never bothered to change mine.
It was like I was outside my own body, hovering over myself, looking down at my tidy desk with its single succulent in a plain brown pot and the white mug I’d gotten for Secret Santa five years ago that said, You don’t have to be crazy to work here, but it helps!
Fuck my life.
“Didn’t bring your lunch today, bud?”
Lance’s upbeat voice pulled me back into my own body. Blinking, I spun my desk chair to look at him. “Huh?”
He chuckled, his chair creaking as he leaned back in it. “You always take your lunch to the fridge straight after switching on your computer.”
I blinked at him again. Was I that predictable?
Yes. I’m that predictable. Oh my god.
“No, I brought it,” I said faintly, turning to reach down for my backpack and pull out the lunch I brought every day. Chicken salad sandwich, a bag of carrot and celery sticks, a banana and a protein bar.
I was pretty sure I’d brought a tuna salad sandwich instead once. About nine years ago. But then I’d worried about smelling like fish all day, so I’d never done it again.
Maybe I’d brought an apple instead of a banana a few times too, but that was it. That was the extent of me deviating from my routine.
Feeling like my legs weren’t working properly, I stood up to carry my lunch to the break room. Was this what I’d become? I wasn’t always like this. I’d bounced between fun and interesting marketing jobs in my early twenties. Tech start-ups, innovative digital agencies, even a game developer for about a year. I’d gone to conventions and expos and press launches. I’d blown my tiny disposable income on lunches at diverse, hidden places and drinks after work with colleagues. I’d worn T-shirts to work. Graphic T-shirts. Ones with quirky phrases or cartoons on them.
Then I’d met Marcus, a data analyst, and after a couple years of dating, he’d wanted us to settle down. He’d encouraged me to look for a stable job with a better income that would allow us to get a place together. So I had, and I’d landed my job in the corporate PR division of HutSec’s marketing department.
Except it wasn’t really much of a division. It was just me and Lance. All we did was write up press releases about software updates and new B2B product launches that were so fucking boring I’d forgotten fun existed. I’d typed out the word ‘synergy’ so many times in the last twelve years that it appeared in my dreams. I still didn’t even really know what it meant, and at this point I was too afraid to ask.
It wasn’t like I’d been wild before, but I’d enjoyed life. And it wasn’t even like I’d stopped enjoying life the moment I started working here. At first, I’d been happy, because it had allowed me and Marcus to get a cute little two-bedroom house with a tiny yard, and he’d seemed content. He’d said I looked handsome in a suit and tie. He’d liked it when I cut my hair shorter and styled it neater so I fit in at work.
He'd encouraged me to cut out dairy and limit my gluten intake and go cycling with him every Sunday, even though I really fucking loved ice cream and I really fucking hated cycling. But I’d done it, because I’d loved him, and I’d thought it was what he wanted.
Then he left me for a lifestyle blogger called Sage with long beachy waves and a propensity for wearing flipflops and flowy yoga pants. They went to orgies a lot. I knew because Sage talked about it on his blog, waxing lyrical about how love should be shared and that people’s souls connected best by mashing their genitals together or something.
I wouldn’t have minded going to a few orgies, I still thought bitterly, four years after our relationship had ended. Not once had Marcus mentioned orgies in the entire ten years we were together. I would’ve loved an orgy every now and then. In theory, at least.
