Just another day in this fucking hell hole. I don’t know what to do about it but I know it is gonna piss me off.
The more I work on these files and put in them what needs to be put in them the more they stack up. The office always gives me the new ones, as though they think I’m the only one that will do them.
I cannot begin to explain just how shitty this life is. It just pisses me off.
I sit back and get to work on getting them done. By five that afternoon, I’ve only made a dent in the stack but it doesn’t matter. My shift is over and I’m the only one that touches that desk.
This is the kind of job I hate—working in a lawyer’s office—and I cannot stand the shit I get for it but it pays the bills and that is what matters to me at this point. I deal with it because it pays the bills. That is the only saving grace for this job.
I cannot stand the fact I am stomped on all over the place. I’m not the only woman working there just like I’m not the only secretary there and yet I’m the one that has to do the work.
Because I don’t spread my legs for the bosses. Eight major lawyers in the small but somewhat big firm I work for and I’m the only one that does the paperwork.
I guess it is always meant to be. I think they pick on me and make me do the paperwork because I’m heavyset while the other secretaries are twig shaped and don’t hesitate to get a good fucking or two from the bosses.
It is just how it is. And as for me, I’m just the heavyset one—I’m big boned, don’t judge me—that does the work that just keeps on coming around. The others do all the phone calls and then some. And me, I do the heavy lifting. I guess it’s because I’m the heavy one.
Not that it matters. Everywhere I work, I end up doing the tough work and there is always the office slut—or sluts in this case—that get what they want so they can get out of working and put the work horses—me in every last case, it pisses me off let me tell you—to do all the hard work. Or any work for that matter.
I’m telling me it is because of jobs all around the world that I am gonna end up dying of a heart attack and stress overload.
A few days later, I get to work and finish the files. It is after five o’clock and I’m gonna get bitched at for working after hours but it is a fucking Friday and no lawyer works nights. At least not in this lazy good for nothing fucking firm. I don’t take lunch breaks because I often have an overloaded workload.
I know when push comes to shove it is best for me to work hard just as I know one of the lawyers has a soft spot for me. In fact, he doesn’t mind working after five. Braden Jackson is the only lawyer that will work late into the night. He is a young lawyer that cares about the people that others leave behind.
And he is quite sweet on me. He knows I bust my ass. Just as he doesn’t put paperwork duty on me when it comes to cases being done. He is one of those lawyers that isn’t an asshole and handles his own paperwork. He knows other attorneys would put it on me in a heartbeat because they feel they have no time or they want to put no effort into it.
Anyway, as I’m working on finishing up the stack, I look over to see he is in his office listening to music and finishing up a few files for court in the morning.
When I finish the stack, I clock out and head to his office. “I’m heading out for the night,” I say.
“Have a good weekend,” he replies and smiles at me. When he smiles, he has a tendency to wink. So when he winked, I dropped down. I felt a rush of pain in my chest around my heart. It didn’t help that I’d been stress eating a lot lately and having major pains in my chest.
He rushes to me to help me out and when he does what he can, even it doesn’t help. It is too late.
The day of my funeral, only he shows up. He paid for the headstone and everything.
I find it quite sweet what he put on there.
“Though she was worked too hard, she always had the tough spirit. A sweet soul, a beauty in disguise, and a great person.”