No Noël | ✓

1 » oh, noel, noel

1 » oh, noel, noel

❅

The clicking sound of the keyboard filled the room as everyone rushed to meet our next deadline. My own fingers aggressively attacked the keys as if it was their fault I waited until the last possible second to start.

Choosing a topic had been hard, and actually sitting down and finding the right words to use proved to be harder.

But I was a writer, and though the tasks handed to me were sometimes daunting and downright torturous, this was my job.

No, not just my job. It was my passion.

I'd gotten lucky enough to turn it into a career—well, somewhat of a career. I wasn't able to write real stories or even have full authority over what I wrote about, and I certainly didn't have the final say, but my job was still to write. And that was honestly all I'd ever wanted—no matter how much other people in my life disapproved.

Plus, after all the setbacks and trials I had faced just to get here, I should've felt grateful for even having this job.

"Did everyone add their email to the list? If not, get to it. Invitations are going out tomorrow."

Violet's voice was ignored, no one caring enough to pay her any actual attention. She should've known better than to try making an announcement during this time of day. Hell, during this time of year.

Without a doubt the holidays were always when we were the busiest, especially Christmas. Why people were so fascinated with the season and the supposed joy it brings was a mystery to me. All I knew was that their need for cards and letters filled with bullshit messages of love and kindness increased my hours, therefore increasing the numbers in my bank account.

"I mean it. If you don't add your email to the list you're not getting an invite to the holiday party."

The urge to roll my eyes at her words was almost too hard to ignore, but I found the strength to do it anyway. Last thing I needed was Violet noticing and chewing me out for being disrespectful to my higher up.

Though I hid my distaste well, there was no hiding how her words truly made me feel. Not getting an invite to the holiday party was a blessing in my eyes—well, as much of a blessing as I could be granted. That'd save me from creating a bullshit excuse to miss out.

Just because I was a writer didn't mean lying and making up false stories came any easier to me than the average person. Thinking of a lie I hadn't already used got harder as the years went by. Being called out for using the same excuse made me panic, and I was never good under pressure.

I was convinced I'd never live down the moment I tried using the classic sorry, gotta work line on my damn coworkers.

Safe to say, that was the one year I got stuck attending, and it was just as much of a disaster as I expected it to be. I didn't help myself by getting completely plastered to the point where I couldn't remember my own damn name, but either way, the party was trash, and my embarrassing behavior had nothing to do with it.

Well, maybe it had a little to do with it. The events that led up to the party weren't pleasant either, so that hadn't helped. But still. Christmas in general never went well whenever I was around, and going to that party only solidified that thought.