...mean while back at the office

All was almost well again down at the Funny Farm today. The office was almost completely deserted, what with the monthly budget-closing looming eminently above the next ten days. Most people are either in meetings or conducting site visits- it could also be that they’ve given into the almost all consuming urge and decide to stay at home. Either way, I while away my morning clearing up some spectacular confusion which we, along with Finance, have decided will be blamed wholly and entirely on Procurement should anyone ask.

My boss and I are ever so polite when dealing with each other these days and I make a mental note to do my best to make this mood last til de-mob or atleast until one of us resigns/ gets fired.

Steph says he has a busy day today and will be in a meeting in the next five minutes with our Head of Department. He adds that he may or may not need to have a word with me in private there after. I tell him that I'm basically free the whole week but I mean one can never tell in this place.

True to form the big guy waltzes into the office looking rather officious and perhaps a little too self-important. He grunts at me absently, and not one to be out done whenever I can help it, I grunt back at him just as absently. I take it we have now exchanged greetings so I pull myself up and head for the kitchen.
Much to my luck; the kitchen door opens directly opposite to the boardroom door... allowing say one who is that way inclined to eavesdrop splendidly on the ongoings of the boardroom while one sips quietly on one’s cuppa. I lean against the fridge and stare worriedly into my java.

Two or so minutes later I give up and slunk back to my cubicle. The meeting is being conducted in a well balanced mix of French and high emotion (more so though on the part of my own boss than anyone else). The names Wes and, at times, my own are thrown about casually along with the horrowing phrase “two weeks notice”.

I wipe away at the sweat collecting above my brow. I am now torn between scribbling down a resignation and throwing myself on the ground begging for my employment.

...

Both men emerge from their meeting over an hour later looking drained and completely used. The sort of look one would desplay after running a considerable marathon or the likes.

Steph asks for a quick word. I shuffle about and struggle to find my keys. I tell him I am late for a meeting which is sure to take up the rest of my afternoon. I do however assure him that he will receive a meeting request from me once I have double checked my week's schedule…