|
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected] Subject: Hi Dear Pacey, How've you been? Haven't heard from you lately. Which is understandable, I guess, since I haven't written much myself - I can't believe there's so much work involved in preparing a museum exhibit! We've been so busy. I'm sorry for neglecting to write. I really miss you, though. I keep wondering if you're still eating Cap'n Crunch for dinner. ;-) Take care. Write back soon, k? Love, I stare at the message on my monitor for a long time, feeling a little lost. She's been in Madrid for a month now, and we've kept in touch through e-mail and phone calls, but lately we've both been - just too busy, I guess. Mostly the e-mails consisted of a handful of hastily-written sentences like this one, and the conversations on the phone have been just as brief. Their preparations have kicked into full swing, we're planning a major overhaul of Anne's company's website. I'm feeling a little ragged myself - some days I have barely enough time to grab a quick dinner before crashing into bed. I'm about to hit the Reply button when someone gives the door to my office a few short taps. "Sorry to barge in on you at such an early hour." My chair swivels as I turn to smile at Anne. "Hey. What brings you here?" She rolls her eyes toward the ceiling. "The bosses are getting a bit antsy over the overhaul. They want me to work personally on it with you guys starting today." I make an amused sound and make a joke. "In other words, they don't trust our taste, huh?" She pretends to think about it. "Um, pretty much. Yeah." She nods regretfully. "They're worried you guys might get a little too radical, I think." "Radical?" I laugh. "Nah. We were just planning to spice up the site a bit with some free downloadable porn, nothing too over-the-top. Just to help bring in the hits, y'know?" We laugh, and for a few minutes I feel like my normal self again. I close my Inbox and stand up. "Why don't you sit here while I get Michael, so that we can start discussing this?" I offer her one of the chairs around my large work desk and call our programmer. *** It's almost six p.m. when I get a few minutes to e-mail Joey back. Discussing Anne's company's website had taken up most of the day, and the rest of the time went to working on other projects. Snow is falling lightly outside. The sky is already a bleak shade of dark blue with large chunks of gray, and suddenly I feel drained. What should I do tonight? Get some take-out, rent a video? Go to sleep? Take some work home? I look around my cluttered desk and grow sick of the sight of zip disks and anything else remotely web-related. I rub my eyes with my fingers and pinch the bridge of my nose, thinking of what to write. To: [email protected] Joey, Don't worry about not writing; I've been pretty swamped here, too. Too many clients creating headaches for us by wanting one thing one day and then changing their minds the next. And no, I haven't been eating Cap'n Crunch for dinner. I hired a lovely French chef to feed me gourmet meals and pamper me in the other ways that I've been missing. You'd love her, she makes a great crepe suzette. ;-) Just kidding. How's the weather there? It's still snowing here, but thankfully someone has taken it upon himself to rid our street of the sad-looking Christmas decorations that remained intact until about a week ago. Everyone here at work says hi. Miss you, I hit the send button and shut down the computer, turn off the lights, and put on my coat to head home on a cold February evening. |