Pointed Gun

I'll see you Around.

Syncear

EVEN WHEN my brain tore my body to sheds that morning, I still dragged myself out of bed and got ready for work. Through all the moans and groans. The pounding headache right along with an empty rumbling stomach made the morning a little less manageable. I took myself a hot relaxing shower before throwing on my best outfit. Preferably one that Blair picked out for me over the phone that weekend. Did my curly hair up into a nice bun and went on my way.

If I had the extra time in the mornings, I would grab myself a nice cup of joe to be the energy in the relationship. But saying that I woke up a few hours later than I would've liked, that time spent debating over which muffin to eat on the ride to work or how large of a cup I actually needed to make it through the day, I used to rush out of the house and into my cab to my nine to five.

"Syn, omg! You are so late. Why are you late?" Blair made a dash to me seconds after my appearance became known past the grand revolving doors. I grumbled a small smile as our sides connected like they always had whenever she's around.

"This is why I don't drink." I told her in all honesty. "Has Marco noticed?"

"No," She replied, eyes down on the screen of her phone. From the light glance I gave the screen while we walked ahead, I saw her schedule for the next month. And I thought I was busy. "But, he has asked for you."

"What did he need?"

"Nothing too extreme. I was able to handle it while I covered for you. You owe me one by the way."

I sighed a breath as my finger came in contact with the up button on the elevator. Its warm feel easing away a puddle of nerves while making me think of all the germs. I wasn't a germaphobic. Trust me.

I turned to her. A larger smile pulling up on my lips despite the slight force to keep it there. "How about I treat you to lunch today? We can try out that new restaurant on fifth avenue. You've been talking about it all week."

The elevator doors did their song before slowly sliding open to welcome us to its emptiness. We stepped in before she answered what I knew would be a yes.  "Lunch sounds amazing already and if you're paying, I'm game."

I didn't think she would turn down the chance to wine and dine without the tab at the end. If you offered her a coupon for a corn dog, she would take it with no hesitation. Just as long as she doesn't have to pay the full price, it was perfect in her book.

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AFTER HOURS of staring blankly at a bright white computer screen and sipping gracefully on a chilled bottle of water in my brand new office that was granted to me with the promotion, and answering calls here and there to cover loose ends, I'd found myself thinking about occurrences that had easily escaped my memory for the most part. Like actually finding myself partying with my boss after hours. Or even conversing with that nice guy even if the moment was short-lived thanks to Blair.

She always talked about me finally finding a date that didn't demand sitting behind a sleek desk and loads of paperwork. I personally wouldn't call myself a workaholic but, that was Blair's favorite word when asked, what's your best friend like? Most guys didn't really enjoy a woman that didn't need them as much as she'd rather have her job. However, that wasn't my problem. I worked my ass off because I enjoyed it and it was rewarding. If they didn't like it, then I didn't like them.