500 words a day

563 words - 18th August 2009

He had to run everywhere, he felt as if he did anyway. His world had become incredibly fast moving  and hectic. In previous weeks he’d struggled sometimes to find something to do and felt like a bit of a  spare part. He ignored the many jealous sounding words of advice like – make the most of it mate, think yourself lucky, it won’t last. He thought they were wrong and that he didn’t think himself lucky at all, he thought of himself as someone with nothing to do and someone who stood out as being the only one with nothing to do in an office where everyone else seemed to be incredibly busy all the time. He didn’t make the most of it as he wanted to look busy and making the most of it would have involved putting his feet up and reading a book, watching some porn at his desk and jerking off, bringing a couple of bottles of wine and some nice food in and eating it at his leisure while the others sweated and moaned, or maybe brining in the dvd player and whiling away his time catching up on all those obscure foreign films he’d kind of wanted o see but never had the time, or maybe even just watching old series of his favourites like Friends or Sopranos or The Wire or even something trivial and inane like America’s Next Top Model. So he didn’t do that, he didn’t enjoy the apparent worthlessness of being the new boy and he wanted his work to become a lot more busy.





Now he regretted it all. He saw them smirking as the papers piled up on his desk and he swore at the phone and at his computer screen throughout the day in common with all the others. He dreamed of those lazy days when he was preparing for the daily presentation that he was now expected to make to the most demanding group of arseholes he’d ever had the misfortune to work for. Each meeting  producing a massive pile of work, redoing what he’d already done – although he’d apparently done it wrong,  hopelessly wrong it seemed if he were to use the tone and level of aggression directed at him from all who attended these meetings as an indicator of his perceived competence.


So he was in the thick of it right now. He’d started to come in to work early, 8 this morning so he didn’t have to stay too late. Each morning though as he sat in on his daily abuse meeting he started to realise with each extra task or reworking that they threw at him, that he would still be going home late. Today he had expected to finish around 7, but 5 minutes ago, that sharp-suited cocksucker from Marketing who appeared to have a lot more power than his absurdly complex title suggested, had given him a dressing down about the publicity for the new launch on Monday, saying that it was the most useless piece of work he’d ever seen and he expected it to be on his desk in a new and completely reworked and apparently obviously different style – which he’d never ever mentioned before, by 7 tomorrow morning; which meant that he’d either be there until very late tonight or have to get up very early tomorrow or possibly, probably, both.











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Steve Wybourn





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