Gina
I had officially become that employee.
The one who stayed after everyone else had gone home.
The one who forgot dinner because she was too busy highlighting spreadsheets.
The one who looked up at the office clock, convinced it couldn’t possibly be later than six, only to realize it was almost eight-thirty.
I leaned back in my chair and stretched until my shoulders popped. The switchboard floor, usually buzzing with ringing phones and conversations, had transformed into something almost eerie. The overhead lights had automatically dimmed, leaving only the rows directly above occupied desks fully lit. The cleaning crew had already made one pass through the hallway, and somewhere in the distance, I could hear the faint hum of a vacuum.
I looked down at the merchandising project spr
