The next morning came way too fast, and I was seriously reconsidering every life choice that led me to having a job that required leaving the comfort of my bed before noon. But bills don’t pay themselves, so I dragged myself up, threw on my usual workwear combo of "trying-but-not-too-hard," and headed out.
By the time I got to the office, I had already downed my usual coffee—one shot of espresso away from heart palpitations—and mentally prepared myself for another day of passive-aggressive emails and pretending I didn’t hate every single person who replied all.
What I wasn’t prepared for? Amelia.
There she was, strutting toward me like some kind of deranged gazelle in heels, her blonde hair bouncing with every step. She looked like she had stepped out of a toothpaste commercial, all
