Wednesday, 3:00 PM. Yoshimi is in the office, staring at her computer screen. They just swifted from the software she was used to to this "more-efficient, time-saving" thing.
"Time-saving, my ass," she though, while biting her lip. "I've been trying to figure this shit out since 9 AM."
Something was wrong with the numbers. They weren't matching. "This sucks."
She got up again in search for something to kill her boredom. She couldn't even binge herself in drinking water anymore - got tired of endless trips to the bathroom this morning. She was starting to think she had turned herself into an open tap.
"Hmmm...maybe some coffee..."
The cleaning lady had left the coffee at the office early morning, even before 9. People have the annoying habit of not closing the coffee pot lid tight (yeah, one of "those" old, cheap coffee pots....) and the coffee was already cold. She liked bitter coffee, but not cold. "Why on Earth would somebody like cold coffee???" she thought, thinking of those crazies who go to Starbucks to buy icy coffee.
"I'd rather not have anything to having this," and walked back to her desk, hauling her bag of frustration (which she had been loading, little by little, the whole day).
At her desk, a bucket of anger fell over Yoshimi again, as her eyes fell on the screen and reality sank once more. "I don't know how to do this shit."
At that moment, she delighted herself with vengeful thoughts. She could picture her foot kicking the computer screen a la Taratino's Kill Bill. She was "The Bride", revenging the death of her unborn baby. Only that, in this case, there were no babies or killing husbands around. Just a plain, simple version of Windows Vista with a slow processor and a new software she couldn't remember how to use.
Truth is: hadn't she lied about what programs she knew well (and she included this one,even though she had just glanced at it once!), she would now be able to ask for help, which she can't. The only solution would be to try to figure it out by herself - at least the basics to get the most urgent parts of the job done.
That would mean a late-night at the office.
Resigned, she sighed and walked towards the coffee pot to get herself another cup of old, cold Joe.
Copyrights by Michelle Mocarski
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