Be My Christmas Grinch

A Really Bad Carol

I spent the next few hours tuning out the rest of the world as I answered emails from my coworkers, confirmed advertisement opportunities with potential endorsers, and organized my files into an updated system that sorted out the trash from the vital work documents. Once I get into my groove no one can stop me. Well, except for one exceptional person who has managed to double my problems in the past few weeks.

I refreshed my inbox one last time before departing for lunch to find a handful of new emails. Three of the five sent in the past hour from one person. Josh Davis. I'm not saying it was wise of me to open them, but I did anyway. All three.

The first one, sent at 1:34 PM, was a stupid online holiday card with an attached image of our senior year homecoming photos. I deleted that.

The second one, sent at 1: 41 PM, was a link to an Old Navy sale, where if you ordered three items, then you could get the fourth item twenty percent off. I'm assuming that was a reference to our unfortunate meeting on Black Friday. I deleted that one as well.

The last one to come in was sent just three minutes prior to me opening it. It was a paragraph addressed to Ms. Dime. From, Yours truly, Joshie. That was what I called him when we were still in a relationship... Hold up, let me just vomit and then come back... Okay, I'm back.

I read the rest of the paragraph and it's flowery font with a distorted expression.

Ms. Dime,

You are so beautiful, has anyone told you that today. Oh wait... I already did! I'm super ecstatic for my big surprise (Coming your way, in the mail!!!) and I know you'll LOVE it! Much love.

Yours truly,

Joshie

P.S. What do you want for Christmas?

I deleted that one too.

Have you ever been dreading something so much that just thinking about it gives you goose bumps? Well, that's me right now. I already got a scolding from my boss, had to go around firing people a few weeks before Christmas, and almost was tackled to the ground by another coworker all within the first few hours of my day, but still this up and coming "surprise" has me on the edge of my swivel chair.

Think about it from my perspective. I just graduated college and high school seems about as far away as the last episode of Hannah Montana. Its been awhile to say the least. Sure, what me and Josh had was pretty serious, but we ended it years ago. Not to mention we were in high school, and c'mon, that whole cliche "I married my high school boyfriend" thing is totally far fetched. That never happens. So tell me why this boy, who I haven't talked to all of college, is suddenly back in my life and thinks I'm all head over heels still in love with him? So, while I am in a hot pair of business casual heels, I am most definitely not in love with him. Mr. Gullible is just creepy.

I slammed my laptop shut, the illuminated screen that I had been glued to now left my vision slightly blurred, and my head reverberating with the clicking echos of keyboard buttons. Somehow, I was even more rattled than I was when I walked into work late. I rolled back in my chair, pushing slightly away from my desk and into the isle between cubicles, but no one seemed bothered by my presence. So I leaned back into the scratchy, black fabric that lined my chair. It was then, that I realized what time it was.

I had missed my usual lunch break, which means I would have to eat alone in the cafeteria. The few friends I do have at the office are like me. We like to work and when we work we're kept on a strict schedule. Which means they'll be long gone by the time I get down there.

I stretch out my arms one last time before standing. When I do my legs are like jello. I've been sitting stationary for the past few hours, taking only one bathroom break so I can understand why. It feels good to be walking away from all my current problems and to a room that offers bountiful options of comfort food. Once in the crowded cafeteria, I find myself at the all-you-can-eat buffet. I stuff my tray of food with a salad, a brownie, a bag of chips, and some sort of soup with a name I couldn't even begin to pronounce.