Disillusion Meets Delight
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Authors: Leah Battaglio
Disillusion Meets Delight
by
Leah Battaglio
©2012 Leah Battaglio
Cover art by Marti Battaglio Pourciau
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Any unauthorized duplication is strictly prohibited.
I would like to thank my friends for being there for me through thick and thin. I would also like to thank my family, especially my husband as he may be the most patient man in the world. Finally, I must thank my cats; past and present for being all around great cozy companions.
Wanted:
SWF desires fun, exciting job. Must provide salary that helps maintain lifestyle of Pottery Barn, Saks Fifth Avenue, and dinners in hip dining atmosphere. Ample supply of handsome SWM bonus. Serious applicants need only apply.
As I stare at the computer in my hopelessly boring occupation, I wonder how in the world I got here. I mean, I know how I got here. “And then there was light” yadda yadda yadda, but how did I let myself get in
this
position? I read
Generation X
[1]
in college and was well aware of the “veal fattening pen”. For those of you who have not read the novel by Douglas Copeland, the “pen” is the almighty cubicle and I firmly believe it is sucking the life out of me.
My job was basically handed to me through friends of friends, but it was supposed to be a transition job. I was supposed to move up in the company because I had a degree. I was far too educated to answer customer service phones. However, nobody is interested in my vast knowledge of Jane Austen novels or Post-Structuralism. Reality hits, the job market slumps and the student loan payments begin.
I had images of what life would be like in the “real world” and let me tell you, it was pretty darn exciting. I would wear cute office attire from Ann Taylor and have happy hour drinks after work. In the mornings, I would waltz into the building with my Grande caramel macchiato courtesy of Starbucks and everyone would say, “Good morning Miss Everett” and I would reply with a confident smile because…
“Everett! Have you finished that correction paperwork yet? It was supposed to be turned in for month end yesterday!” I don’t know if everyone knows this, but day dreaming is not on most job descriptions and not usually appreciated by supervisors, especially mine. Is it possible to be born with a permanent scowl on one’s face?
“Um, I was just finishing some things and then…” I reply fumbling with my pile of mess and hoping that he doesn’t notice the complete disarray on my desk.
“Natalie, I want it in my box before 3 P.M. Oh, and Miss Everett, that’s 3 P.M. today.” He grumbles with such tone that makes Lou Grant look like Barney Fife and before his eau de stale cigar can cause eternal eye weeping, Mr. Woodhouse fades into the land of cubicles to harass another unappreciated peon. Unfortunately, his next target was my office savior, Laura Lees. Despite the serious lack of responsibility in her private life, the girl has been my most loyal co-worker. I must truly give her props because with her keen sense of smell, Laura has never missed a beat with the Woodhouse radar. I find this very useful because sometimes I just cannot get away from that solitaire game. Not my finest obsession, but it’s cheaper than Jimmy Choos.
“Laura, I really don’t know what to do. There is no way I am going to get that report done by 3 this afternoon. As it is I haven’t left my desk for lunch!” I did however find a moment to drink a whole pot of coffee, which I find really helps with anxiety.
“Sweetie, first of all, you need to breathe and put the coffee mug down. It’s the innocent one here. Second of all, you will get it done. Give me some of your files and I will do the follow ups, that way, you won’t spend your whole time on hold and you can focus on the big stuff!” She says in the therapist tone. Laura is always the chipper one. With her curly blonde hair and rosy cheeks, she lights up the room. She just turned 30 and like me, is habitually single.
“Laura I can’t ask you to do that. It’s my own fault. I put all of the difficult work under the rug and now my procrastination is biting me on the derriere.”
“Look Natalie, it’s my turn to help you. You have covered my late ass with Woodhouse on so many occasions I probably owe you my first born, which will
probably
never happen, so let’s stop arguing and give me those folders!” She was off and although I had some weight lifted off my shoulders, I was disappointed in myself. I was in a boring desk job that did not interest me at all and it was beginning to show. I have always displayed a strong work ethic but lately it was not in full effect whatsoever. Tonight called for definite stress alleviation.
I know what you’re thinking. The best way to relieve stress would be to hit the gym right? That would make sense given that they take it out of my bank account every single month. However, I prefer to get my exercise the old fashioned way. Shopping! Luckily my retail therapy confidante, Jenna was available on such short notice.
“You know Natalie I really think you should go to this function with me. You can network to get yourself a better job and it’s a great way to meet men. You never know, maybe you will meet your future husband there!” She says with pure delight.
My friend Jenna Masterson is obsessed with falling in love. She truly believes that her place in life is to be a wife and mother. To her credit, she is quite motherly. For instance, last summer at a neighbor’s party, when I thought it was a good idea to play quarters with a lovely red wine, she was gone in a flash. She returned with fresh clean clothes and a “gurney” named Martin to help us back to my apartment.
I have always been envious of Jenna because although she has not found the man of her dreams, she never has a problem with the preliminary process. I can go months without a guy even asking me the time, whereas Jenna has plans with some eligible bachelor at least once a week. I don’t know how she does it! She is not even in school or a profession that has ample men. Jenna is a nanny. She is currently on hiatus from college because she is trying to save up money for a boob job. I’m sorry, breast augmentation. So far from her job as a nanny, she should be on her way to showing her cleavage in sexy halter tops by next year. Personally, I think she looks perfect with her slender 5’8” frame, bright blue eyes and blonde hair that looks like a shampoo commercial. Nevertheless, we all have little imperfections that make us feel substandard, even those who appear flawless.
“Natalie, I am serious. You have not been on a date in weeks. There is nothing shameful about attending a singles function. How else are you going to meet anyone? All the people at your work are either married or decrepit and obviously the men at bars are just out for one thing.
“Thank you for reminding me of my pathetic romantic status but I have a problem advertising it Jenna! Those people who go to those singles things are desperate, no offense.”