Page 1 of Self Expression

1

LINCOLN

Since when did the Thursday before a long weekend end at 3pm? Since today, apparently, because that was about the time everyone in my entire company bailed, leaving me alone with the enormous task of preparing Monday's presentation.

There were plenty of excuses and reasons why they needed to get ahead of traffic and on the road to their weekend destinations. That was great for them, but as one of the few single guys in the office, I was left with the responsibility of putting the “final touches” on a presentation that needed proofing, formatting, graphics, and a timed rehearsal before Monday. And because we had three days off, our brilliant IT department planned a company-wide outage starting at midnight while our servers were being updated, which left me on a timeline too.

If it really were just a few final touches, I could have been gone by five or six. But everything was a mess, and darkness fell much earlier than I expected.

My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten in a while. Did I eat at all today? I couldn't remember. Breakfast had been some coffee, and lunch... Did those strawberry candies from Jessica's desk count?

It was almost nine when I finally emailed my file to the entire team and said it was in their hands to review before it was shared with the board of directors on Monday morning. I’d done everything I could, and my bed was calling me.

Exhausted, I closed my laptop and packed up to leave. My water bottle was empty, so I tossed it in my bag and checked my phone. Dammit, I forgot to put it on the charger and it was almost dead. I just couldn’t catch a break.

As the last person on my floor, I passed by a sea of abandoned desks that seemed to be mocking me for being the sucker who had basically worked a double shift before a holiday so everyone else could take a half day. Damn, I envied everyone who had gotten out.

Fuckers, the lot of them.

But they all had something I didn’t. A life. A partner. A family. Someone or something worth going home to. Without any of that, I deserved to be stuck carrying the load for everyone else. I was basically paying it forward on the off chance I ever had any one of those things. The odds weren’t in my favor, but it was nice to think that maybe someday I’d have a reason to rush home.

My eyes were heavy and bleary as I shuffled to the elevator. Normally I took the stairs, but it was too late to be in the dark stairwell alone, and I didn’t have the energy to heave myself down five flights. All I could focus on was sleep and taking some time over the weekend to unwind. I didn’t indulge often, but maybe I’d have a Little day tomorrow. I could order in junk food, set up a fort in front of the TV, and stay in my PJs all day.

That was my favorite way to turn off my brain and not think about responsibilities. I hated being responsible all the time. Maybe that guy in Accounting was right and I should just let everyone else fail instead of always bailing people out. That was how people learned, right?

After pressing the button to call the car, hunger gnawed at my stomach, and I started to consider takeout options that were still open. Sushi was always good, but they stopped taking orders at eight. Maybe a burrito. Or pizza. As long as it was fast, I didn’t care.

The elevator must have been in vacation mode too because it took forever to get up the five flights.

The doors finally opened, and the entire building seemed to exhale as if it were grateful to be rid of me. Trust, the feeling was mutual.

Exhausted and starving, I stepped inside and let the doors close behind me as a heavy feeling of relief overcame me. I was officially done with work. I could enjoy a few days and refresh before starting it all over again on Monday morning.

2

ENZO

A hot gush of milk broke through my shirt, so I slumped forward before anyone could see the dark spots blooming over my chest. Fuck!

The throbbing in my chest had been constant for hours, but leaking was a new and particularly annoying development. Even my damn suppliers in India were startled by the way I jerked out of the frame and pointed the camera up toward the ceiling. Continuing the call was torture, but I couldn’t just walk away. Three of our main ports had shipments under investigation, and our customers were starting to get pissed. We were the first supplier for several major manufacturers, but we weren’t their only option. If we couldn’t find a way to get parts to them, they would move on to their second or third supplies until they found one who could.

The clock in the corner of my monitor showed it was a quarter to nine. I’d been doing this for almost fourteen hours, and I couldn’t do it for much longer. “Get pricing for alternate options that are already in-country. It’ll be expensive, but it’ll be a lot more expensive to lose these accounts.”

“Yeah, agreed.” My procurement director heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We’ll do that and get back to you by morning. Go get some sleep.”

“Yeah.” I positioned my cursor over the ‘End Meeting’ button. “Talk to you later.”

This was the third meeting with the same issue I’d sat in over the past ten hours, and I couldn’t do one more. They needed to find a damn solution. That was what we paid them to do.

Besides, I needed to pump. My milk had never released unexpectedly, so I was on borrowed time before I was dealing with a full flood. I’d forgotten my portable pump at home, and I hadn’t had time to run out and buy a manual. I’d spent five frantic minutes in the bathroom after lunch, manually expressing enough to take the edge off, but it wasn’t enough.

My chest hurt, and I almost embarrassed myself because the leadership team had recently decided to make “back to the office” the theme of the year, and everyone was expected to work on-site three days a week. And with the random social holiday tomorrow, I had a three-day weekend ahead of me, assuming the port shit got resolved. At least those calls would be at home where I could deal with my predicament as needed.

The pressure I felt was intense, and I needed to get out of here. “Keep me posted. I gotta go. Sorry.” I slammed the laptop closed without even signing off.

I slipped on my jacket and then darted from my desk, hoping to Christ I was alone in the building. The lights were mostly out on my floor, and everyone else seemed to have gone home hours ago.

The hall was silent as I waited for the elevator doors to open. Despite not seeing anyone in any direction, I held my jacket tight to my chest as though hiding it would hold off the next bout of leakage. In just a few minutes, I would be in my car. Fifteen minutes after that, I would be home with my pump whirring and that deep sense of relief that came when I was finally empty. I never missed the rhythmic tug as badly as I did right now.

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