Today was a day of annoyances. I missed the train into the city, and arrived late for the Monday morning all-hands meeting.
"Sorry," I said.
"You should be, Luxon," said Winston.
The trouble with shaving my entire head is that when I blush, the top of my head turns as red as a traffic light. I was conscious of it glowing as I took my seat.
Winston said, "Did you work on the figures over the weekend, Luxon?"
I reached into my briefcase to retrieve the figures. I’d put in a lot of work on them, rushing home from church on Sunday to put in a full day.
But I mustn’t have twisted the cap on my thermos tight enough because the documents were soaked in coffee.
"For God’s sake, Luxon," said Winston.
No-one wanted to catch my eye.
TUESDAY
Just as I was finishing my report on the latest figures, the stapler ran out of staples. I went to Nicola in sales to see if she had any.
"There will be no more staples," she said. "I haven’t allocated it in the budget."
"But we need staples," I said.
"Staples are a nice to have," she said.
"What am I going to do?"
"Try paperclips," she said.
Paperclips just aren’t as effective. They can only wrap around so many pages before they slip off, and can easily get bent out of shape. Plus there is the problem of colours. If you run out of plain paperclips, then you have to use coloured paperclips, and they often only come in red. The sight of plain paperclips and red paperclips together just doesn’t look right. It’s not professional, and it sends a message.
I ran out of plain paperclips — and then ran out of the red paperclips, too.
I went to Nicola to see if she had any.
"There will be no more paperclips," she said. "I haven’t allocated it in the budget."
WEDNESDAY
"Luxon," said Winston, "this looks like a dog’s breakfast."
He picked up the bundle of figures from his desk, and let them drop. When they landed, pages came undone, and they scattered on the floor along with paperclips and pieces of string.
He rubbed his thumb on to one of the pages. It turned red.
"Blood," he said, "from where I pricked myself on a pin. Are you mad, Luxon?"
I was conscious that my head was glowing.
THURSDSAY
We went for an all-hands blue-sky lunch today at a nice Mexican cafe on the waterfront. As principals of the firm, Winston and David like us to brainstorm ideas in a free and frank manner.
"Let’s lose the te reo from our letterhead," said Erica in HR.
"Love it," said Winston.
"Let’s stop buying all items of stationery," said Nicola.
"Love it," said David.
It was very hot in the restaurant. I sat exposed to the sunlight that streamed through the windows. I started to get a blinding headache, and I’d made a mistake when I asked for hot salsa on my burrito — I couldn’t handle the chilli. When conversation turned to Netanyahu, the director of an offshore company pursuing an especially aggressive and shocking takeover bid, I found myself saying, "I think Netanyahu has gone way too far. I think he has lost the plot."
No-one wanted to catch my eye.
FRIDAY
I took the day off. I had an upset stomach and was running a bit of a fever. I stayed in bed, and worried about yesterday’s outburst. It was strange to hear myself say it. It was my conscience speaking.
