aperture | d.h

f o u r

| 4 | f o u r 

Days roll into afternoons and afternoons into nights, strung out over weeks as I slough through a mountain of work. When I get to work, it's dark, and when I leave work, it's dark. I forget what the sun looks like, sometimes. Carolyn gives me a worried glance as she passes my desk, my sunken eyes roaming over the blue-screen of my computer.

'You know, you can take some time off,' she says to me as she passes. She pauses by my shoulder. 'I'm seeing how hard you're working. And It's good. But I don't want you getting burnt out before we even really get going.'

'But-'

'Take tomorrow off. Go visit your family, or something. Or go to Paris for the weekend and look at the Christmas markets. I don't care. But do something, alright?'

'Carolyn-'

Carolyn wags a finger at me. 'Don't make me tell you again, Natalie. Trust me. I've seen this before from graduates. You'll burn yourself out before you've even started.'

I sigh, and nod. Carolyn beams at me and then trots off, her heels clicking on the floor. I glance back towards my screen, my eyes burning from staring at it for so long. Excel spreadsheets have lists and lists of possible contacts, storyboarding templates half-filled out with shot ideas and angles, word documents with questions and lists of equipment we need. Now she's said it, I do feel tired. So tired. More tired than I thought a single human being could feel.

It's eight o'clock, so I take Carolyn's advice and clock out, shrugging on my thick winter coat and tugging on a pair of gloves. The weather is brutal at the moment - it's especially bad when it rains, not cold enough for snow, but cold enough to burn like it's already frozen. I shoulder my bag and tuck my work laptop inside, zipping it up. I give Tim, a colleague, a little wave as I head out.

Despite my initial reluctance to take tomorrow off for a long weekend, the idea of three days of freedom has started getting me excited. I go through all the food options for tonight - the fantastic Indian shop by the corner of my apartment block, or some classic fish and chips rolled in as much batter and salt as you can imagine. My stomach churns happily with the thought as I pass out of the building doors and into the bitter London night.

I'm halfway to the tube station when my phone buzzes. I glance down, frowning when 'Dan' pops up in big letters on the screen. I slide it open, holding it up to my ear. Even the glass is cold. 'Hello?'

'Natalie, hi,' Dan says. There's an awkward pause. 'Sorry if this is bad timing.'

'Not at all. How can I help you?'

Something shuffles on the other side of the line, like Dan is adjusting how his phone is sitting. 'Well, you know how everything's a bit hectic with the event on Saturday, and all this stuff Phil and I are being involved with coming up to Christmas...'

'Yeah?'

'And I can't come in to the next meeting?'

'Yeah, Carolyn told me. It's no problem, really.'

'But I have some ideas, about more people we can talk to,' Dan insists eagerly. 'I couldn't sleep last night, so I stayed up brainstorming until, like, five am.'

'Bad dreams?'

'Too much coffee, actually,' Dan says, and we both laugh.

'I can relate to that,' I tell him. 'I've only been getting home from work at, like, ten at the moment,' I tell him. I can hear the weariness in my voice, and I run a hand haggardly through my hair. 'It's just been a bit hectic, trying to get everything sorted with deadlines and all that.'