I strode confidently into the lobby of my office building, gazing up at the brightly-lit bank of elevators with an optimistic grin plastered on my face.
Today was the day.
I pressed through the throng of almost-late workers, weaving through them with unexpected ease. It was amazing what a good mood could do, I thought.
I half-ran for a closing elevator, managed to squeeze myself in and punched my floor number. With a polite ding, they shut in front of a red-faced, sprinting man, suit jacket slung over his arm. I shot him an awkward, apologetic look until the doors were closed, then promptly forgot about him.
Today was my day.
After a short amount of time – and only a couple of stops – the elevator landed at my floor and I got out gratefully, adjusting my tie as I went. I walked past a few new hires oohing and aahing at the frosted window tinting. For an office, it wasn’t half-bad, I thought to myself, seeing it through their fresh eyes for just a moment.
Zeroing in on my cubicle, I quickly deposited my briefcase on the ground next to my chair, checking the clock on the wall across from me: five minutes early.
Perfect.
‘Stephens!’ a voice boomed across the still-filling office floor, and I snapped to attention. My boss (my boss’s boss, actually) was hanging out of the door to his corner office, scanning the room for me. I shot a hand up to acknowledge his summons and quickly followed him into the sunlit room.
‘Shut the door,’ he said gruffly, and I obliged. Squinting against the sun, he pressed a button and lowered the blinds across the view he’d worked so hard to acquire.
‘You don’t happen to know where to get office tinting, around Melbourne, do you?’ he asked with a sigh.
‘No, sir,’ I shook my head, almost unable to suppress the smile on my face. ‘Sir, was there something you wanted to say to me. Maybe offer me…’
‘What?’ he frowned. ‘Oh. Right. You’re fired.’
The blood slowly drained out of my face.
Turns out – today was not my day.