Tag Archives: Sara

Blogging My Murder; chapter six, part one

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Chapter Six; Part One

“Megan! How are you? I heard about your friend, and I’m so sorry.” Sara pulls me into a hug, catching me unaware.

“I’m fine,” I say sharply, placing my hands on her shoulders and pushing her away. I do not like being touched without my permission, especially by someone I don’t like.

“It must be so awful! Her being murdered like that!” Sara’s eyes are fastened on mine, and I get the uncomfortable feeling that she’s getting a kick out of this. There are people who thrive on misery, and she might be one of them.

“Yes. It’s not great.” I sit at my desk and turn on my computer. I pointedly keep my back to Sara so she might take the hint. Alas, she does not.

“I know you’re grieving right now. If there’s anything you need, I would be more than happy to help you. Anything at all!” Sara materializes in front of me, her hands clasped in front of her breasts. I can’t help but notice she’s wearing a black dress that is very out of character with her love for pastels. Her eyes are moist, and I look askance at her. I hate people who absorb the misery of others, ,and she would appear to be one of those people.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I drop my eyes as my computer starts chugging. I just want her to go away, but she stubbornly refuses to take the hint.

“Would you like to have dinner tonight?” Sara clasps my arm, and I glare at the offending appendage. I know it’s time to put my foot down, hard. I glance into Sara’s hopeful eyes, and I steel myself for the unpleasant task at hand.

“No, Sara, I do not want to have dinner tonight. I do not want to have dinner with you any night. We are colleagues. Nothing more. I want to keep it at that.” I remove her hand from my arm and let it drop to her side. She immediately bursts into tears.

“Why do you have to be so mean to me? I like you so much, and you hate me!” Sara runs from the room, loudly sobbing. I get the feeling I’m supposed to chase after her, but I don’t move. I’m unhappy that her little scenes are getting more and more frequent, but I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t want to go to my supervisor because Sara hasn’t done anything egregiously wrong. I don’t want her to be fired; I just want her to leave me alone.

“She’s a soul-sucker, isn’t she?” Lynnette whispers as she passes my desk. She’s a comely redhead in her thirties, and I like the way she livens up the place. “She tried to do the same thing to me a month ago, but I shut her down right fast.”

“I went to lunch with her once,” I say, keeping my voice low as well. “I think that was probably a big mistake.”

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Blogging My Murder; chapter four

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Chapter Four

I wake up five minutes before my alarm rings, which pisses me off. I’d rather be awakened an hour before it’s time to get up than five minutes. That’s not enough time to go back to sleep, but it’s enough time to make me not want to get up, either. I sigh and roll over, careful not to squish the cats who are spooned in a circle on the bed beside me. I give them a quick pet before sliding out of bed. They’re both out like a light and don’t move a muscle. I hop into the shower after winding my hair on the top of my head. I stay in for an extra five minutes because my body is sore. I don’t know why, except perhaps I slept wrong. The hot water feels great on my body, and I reluctantly turn off the tap. I towel off before dressing. Afterwards, I wander down to the kitchen to toast a bagel. Smearing it with cream cheese, I pop a Lactaid before gobbling down the bagel halves. I wash it down with a glass of orange juice. When I turn around, there are two fuzzy black faces staring at me. I start because I hadn’t heard them come in.

“Don’t do that!” I scold them, though my heart isn’t in it. I open a can of Solid Gold wet food and scoop half onto Onyx’s plate and half onto Jet’s. Onyx wolfs hers down, then eyes her brother’s plate. I pick her up despite her protests and cradle her to my chest so Jet can eat in peace. Once he’s finished, I allow her to squirm out of my arms and race over to her brother. She whaps him on the face, taking her frustrations out on him. He doesn’t even flinch, but when she draws her paw back for another smack, his tail shoots straight up in the air and puffs out. He hisses once, and Onyx retracts her paw. She runs roughshod over him, but she knows when he’s reached his limit. She butts her head against her brother’s instead, and he relaxes his stance. The two of them are sniffing each other’s butts as I tiptoe away. I find it’s better to leave when they’re engaged with each other because there’s less yowling that way.

I arrive at work five minutes early, so I pull out my phone and check the comments on my latest post. There are several complimentary ones, wishing Julianna a happy birthday. There’s a comment from YokoOno thanking me for the post and saying we’ll be besties forever. It’s Julianna, and I write a brief response to her before reading the rest of the comments. QueenBee comments, “Sounds like she’s more trouble than she’s worth. You can do better.” I frown because it’s the first time QueenBee has said something negative on a post. I respond by telling her that Julianna is the best, then I close out my phone. I go into the office, my feet dragging. I’m tired of hawking Groupon coupons and other online shit deals. I’m also tired of Sara’s advances, and I want her to just leave me alone. I slide into my seat and power up my computer. Sara is next to me, but she doesn’t say anything. I’m grateful, and I quickly finish some leftover paperwork before reaching for my phone. As I’m talking, I become aware that Sara is glaring daggers at me. Any time I glance over at her, she doesn’t bother hiding her anger. I blink. What the hell is her problem? I decide I don’t give a fuck and turn slightly so my back is towards her. It’s a busy morning, so I soon forget she’s even there. Before I know it, it’s one in the afternoon. I decide to take my lunch break and go to the break room so I can eat my sandwich.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.” An arch tone reaches my ear, and I look up into Sara’s stormy eyes. She’s wearing a pale yellow sweater that isn’t very complimentary to her skin tone.

“What’s your problem, Sara? You’ve been pissed at me all morning.” I stare hard at Sara, taking satisfaction in making her flinch.

“No reason.” Sara smiles, her voice tight. She clasps her hands in front of her while resting them on the table. “It’s just that time of the month. You know how it is.” I refrain from sighing at her archaic language. I also don’t like using my period as an excuse for moods, but I don’t mention that either.

“Right.” I stand up and throw away the detritus in the trash before returning to the office. I get a text from Julianna saying she’s going to be late for dinner by an hour. She doesn’t say why, but I’m used to that. The day Julianna is on time is the day I renounce sex.

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Blogging My Murder; chapter three

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Chapter Three

“Hey, Megan. Wanna grab a coffee on break?” Sara Paulson asks, her bright pink lips curving into wide smile. She pats her fluffy blond curls and bats her eyelashes at me.

“No, thanks, Sara. I’m not going for a while.” I nod at her, but I don’t take my eyes off the computer. It’s been a busy morning trying to sell Groupon coupons, and I’m behind on my paperwork.

“I can push it back a bit if you want.” Sara’s light blue eyes are trained on mine, and she’s starting to make me feel uncomfortable. She has on a snug dusty rose sweater than accentuates her generous curves. She’s only been working with us for three months, and she’s been trying to get me to go to coffee several times a week in the past month. I went once, but she spent the whole time talking about being on the homecoming court or whatever as a princess when she was in high school, which had to have been at least ten years ago, if not fifteen. I find it pathetic when grown adults dwell on the glory days of their high school years. The only other thing she seemed to  care about was horseback riding, which I knew nothing about. She didn’t ask me one question about myself, and I vowed never to do anything with her again.

“No. I’m fine.” I pick up my phone and start dialing, not missing the crestfallen look on Sara’s face. I feel like a shitheel, but I have no desire to get to know her better. None. Even though I haven’t had sex for nearly a month, and she looks like she’s willing to play. I mentally shake myself out of that line of speculation because one, I don’t like to fuck coworkers, the last time I did with the hot Chris Pratt lookalike (now in middle management) notwithstanding. Two, she’s probably fifteen years my junior, which is lower than I like to go. Three, she’s boring as hell, and that’s definitely a boner killer for me.

“Oh, OK. Maybe another time?” Sara’s still looking at me; I can tell, but I don’t bother answering. I don’t want to lead her on, and I don’t want to continue the conversation. I shrug and let it go at that. Suddenly, I have to pee, and I race to the bathroom. When I’m done, I see my coworker, Fawn Lovett, peering into the mirror.

“God, I am so sick of this job,” Fawn grumbles, leaning towards the mirror to reapply her chewed off lipstick. It’s a crimson red that doesn’t fit her pale skin, but who am I to tell her that? She looks both ways before whispering, “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve applied to work as a manager at Burger King. I have an interview in two days.”

“Good luck,” I say automatically. I wash my hands, then dry them off with a rough paper towel. Our company’s too cheap to install an automatic dryer, god forbid. “See you back in the pit.” I walk back to my desk, lost in thought. I’ve been on the job for a three years, and I’ve been getting tired of it myself. It’s mindless, and I don’t have to take it home, but it’s also stultifying my brain. I used to be able to compose blog posts as I made my calls, but now, I just shut off all thoughts as I work. Speaking of blog posts, I check out my latest on self-care. MNborn writes, “I like to cuddle with my two pugs to destress. They are the best therapy I’ve ever had.” ScrewYou adds, “I veg out by going down the Netflix hole. I binge-watched Season Three of BoJack in two days.” There are several other comments like that, and I close my phone as I return to my desk. The rest of the day whizzes by, and I’m ready to leave by the time five o’clock rolls by.

“Hey, Megan, hold up!” I restrain a sigh as I hear Sara’s breathy voice behind me in the parking lot as I walk to my car. My impulse is to keep walking, but I slow down and wait for her to catch up in her five-inch heels. This is her first year in Minnesota, and we haven’t had snow yet, but she won’t be able to wear those shoes for much longer. I bet she’s one of those women who wears boots with stiletto heels, then complain about twisting their ankles on the ice.

“What do you want, Sara? I’m tired and cranky, and I would like to get home as soon as possible.” I keep my tone civil, but just barely. The second I’m off the clock, my time belongs to me.

“I just wanted to thank you for mentoring me when I first got here. It was really nice of you.” Sara clutches my arm, and I automatically stiffen. I don’t like being touched without my permission, and I disengage my arm as discreetly as possible.

“No problem. I was just doing my job.” I nod at her, and I’m telling the truth. My supervisor asked me to train Sara because I’m the best at my job of all my colleagues. I’m not bragging, and it’s a very low bar to clear.

“Anyway, I’d like to repay you by making you dinner one night this week. Wednesday, maybe?” Sara clasps her hands in front of her chest as I restrain an impatient sigh. I am definitely getting a ‘she’s hitting on me vibe’, which I need to nip in the bud.

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