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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Business · #1419569
What happens when the frustration gets uncontrollable?
Carslie was a quiet girl.  An employee who came to work on time, did her work quickly and efficiently, and then left to go home.  'A dependable girl, that one.  No problems at all from her.  And her work gets done.' her bosses would say about her.

Carslie loved her job...at least for a while.  It wasn't her dream, but it paid very well and her co-workers were great.

One day they "upgraded" to a new computer program.  Carslie looked forward to the new, improved system.  Her job was a little boring and monotonous so a more current program would be faster and make things easier on her.  She learned the ins and outs studiously.  Her bosses were impressed with how quickly she adapted.

Within that first week though, Carslie realized the new system was not what she'd been promised.  While a newer program, it certainly was not faster.  And the boring, monotonous work became that much more frustrating. 

She held her complaints inside because she knew from conversations with her bosses that nothing could be done.  They were stuck with the new system.  No turning back now.

Carslie became more and more irritated as the days passed.  It took twice as long to do the same amount of work, which made it three times as monotonous and boring.  Then some other things, outside of the usual tasks, took 10 times as long as before.

One particular day Carslie was doing her usual work, and it was taking the usual ridiculous amount of time.  It was near the end of the week so the stack had been piling up a little more each day, as had Carslie's frustration.  To make it worse, she hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before and could barely hold her eyes open.

As Carslie laments about how much overtime she'll have to work she hears someone walking up the stairs to her office.  Oh no.  Their footsteps give them away as they cross the floor to her cubicle.  No, no, no, not more work!  Finally they arrive at her desk carrying one paper.  Carslie hesitantly takes a peek.  Not only is it work, it's the dreaded outside-the-usual super-duper time zapper work that takes YEARS (seemingly) to complete.  And she already has a huge stack she's working on!

As the man walks triumphantly away from her desk, Carslie takes a few seconds to close her eyes and breathe.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Deep breaths.  You can finish this.  Breathe in.  And out.  That's it.  Nice and easy.

As Carslie opens her eyes again a few minutes later she finds the frustration unabated.  Her eyes fall on the sheet just added to her stack of work.  Just one sheet of paper but it would take longer than all the others together.  She can feel her face flush in anger. 

Her eyes fall on her "neighbor's" desk to the left.  More importantly, to the baseball bat he proudly displays that is signed by one of his heroes.  An eerie smile spreads across her already blushing face.  Like a cat stalking its prey, she slowly raises from her chair.  She walks over and removes the bat from the holder it sits upon and turns back to her own desk.

The bat feels heavy in her tight grip.  She notices her breathing has become labored.  As she arrives at her desk, she is surprised to find she's holding the bat above her head like an axe.

She hears the whoosh of the bat cutting the air as she swings.  The release feels amazing as she connects solidly with her computer monitor.  WHAM!  Sparks exploded from inside the monitor.  BAM!  WHOP!  WHAM!  Carslie continued her tirade.  Not just on the monitor, but on the top of her desk, and finally even drug the tower from under her desk to bash it a few times too.

Suddenly startled by the sound of her name Carslie jumps.  Her head jerks up off her desk.  In a panic Carslie turns to see her cubicle neighbor (and bat owner) staring at her quizzically.  She quickly gathers her surroundings and realizes she'd fallen asleep at her desk.  The details of the dream flood back to her and she scans her desk.  Monitor..check..Tower..check..Desk..check...  She's relieved to find everything in its proper place.

She talks with her neighbor for a few minutes.  He admitted he'd been a little shaken up when he heard this guttural scream come from her desk so he came to check on her. 

Carslie finally appeases his curiosity and apologizes for the interruption she caused him.  Unsatisfied yet aware the conversation is over, he walks away slightly dejected. 

Carslie turns back to her work, the newest paper still sitting on top.  She can't help the smile that plays at her lips when she thinks back to her maniacal tirade - dream or not. 
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