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Corybantic
Super-Earth
- Joined
- May 3, 2013
- Location
- Melbourne
"Christ what a day."
Like everything else today, the elevator was conspiring against Jack Ramsey. Despite the fact that he was probably the only person still in the office building except for the janitorial staff, but still the time from pressing the call button to the doors finally sliding open seemed to be an eternity of eternities. From the moment he had walked into the office today, it seemed that every hour had brought a new catastrophe, each competing with the others to decide which could most closely come to ruining the company's entire third quarter, from projections to review. The entire office was turned upside down, but one by one the problems had been fixed, or at least stabilized, and one by one everyone had drifted home, battered and scarred by the day's events, until finally all that was left was a few crucial links to forge that would keep the patch jobs in place, at least until more measured solutions could be worked.
As he rode the elevator to the lobby, Jack couldn't help but look at his appearance, and the damage the day had wrought. Creased was the word that came most to mind. His pastel blue shirt lay unbuttoned at the neck, the charcoal tie that had begun the day as a sharp windsor knot lay long forgotten on the back of his chair in the office. His pinstriped suit jacket slung over his arm. His waistcoat, he realized, had somehow become buttoned askew, and it spoke to his fatigue that it took him almost until the doors opened to muster the will to fix it.
He grabbed a cab, and simply stared out the window, letting the wheels of his mind run down so that he could get into 'Dad' mode when he got him. His two kids were growing up so fast, and while his work was generally rewarding, personally as well as financially, he hated these days that kept him from the routines he'd carved out for himself at home. And it seemed that he was having to carve out larger and larger time, as his wife seemed to be finding more and more time for herself these days, and less for him and the kids.
Thankfully, on nights like this, his neighbour, an absolutely godsend, had been able to help out as a babysitter until he got home. Jack and his wife, Fiona, had taken her up on her offers to help when the children were younger to steal a night or two out on the town, but lately, it seemed that he had to call on her more and more when emergencies cropped up at his work, and his wife had her night classes, or outings with the girls, or whatever. Jack was eternally grateful that she had been available again tonight, and the thought was enough to stir him to have the driver alter the route just slightly, taking him to a small craft market near his house that was having its summer night-market, taking advantage of the late sunlight and warm weather. Jack was going to pick up a token of his appreciation for her stepping in at the last minute, yet again. He had seen it the previous week, when he had taken the kids through the stalls of hand-made toys and artisinal cheeses. A small pendant on a silver chain, with a stone the name he couldn't remember. It was small and fairly cheap, but he hoped that the gesture was taken in the spirit it was given. Had it been twice the price he would still have bought it, as the stone had reminded him so vividly of her eyes.
The brief detour had revived him somewhat, putting him in a better frame of mind for the return home, and he even felt a pang of disappointment that it was most likely the children had succumbed to sleep already. Holding the small gift bag, he paid and thanked the driver and headed into his house, his home, his castle.
Like everything else today, the elevator was conspiring against Jack Ramsey. Despite the fact that he was probably the only person still in the office building except for the janitorial staff, but still the time from pressing the call button to the doors finally sliding open seemed to be an eternity of eternities. From the moment he had walked into the office today, it seemed that every hour had brought a new catastrophe, each competing with the others to decide which could most closely come to ruining the company's entire third quarter, from projections to review. The entire office was turned upside down, but one by one the problems had been fixed, or at least stabilized, and one by one everyone had drifted home, battered and scarred by the day's events, until finally all that was left was a few crucial links to forge that would keep the patch jobs in place, at least until more measured solutions could be worked.
As he rode the elevator to the lobby, Jack couldn't help but look at his appearance, and the damage the day had wrought. Creased was the word that came most to mind. His pastel blue shirt lay unbuttoned at the neck, the charcoal tie that had begun the day as a sharp windsor knot lay long forgotten on the back of his chair in the office. His pinstriped suit jacket slung over his arm. His waistcoat, he realized, had somehow become buttoned askew, and it spoke to his fatigue that it took him almost until the doors opened to muster the will to fix it.
He grabbed a cab, and simply stared out the window, letting the wheels of his mind run down so that he could get into 'Dad' mode when he got him. His two kids were growing up so fast, and while his work was generally rewarding, personally as well as financially, he hated these days that kept him from the routines he'd carved out for himself at home. And it seemed that he was having to carve out larger and larger time, as his wife seemed to be finding more and more time for herself these days, and less for him and the kids.
Thankfully, on nights like this, his neighbour, an absolutely godsend, had been able to help out as a babysitter until he got home. Jack and his wife, Fiona, had taken her up on her offers to help when the children were younger to steal a night or two out on the town, but lately, it seemed that he had to call on her more and more when emergencies cropped up at his work, and his wife had her night classes, or outings with the girls, or whatever. Jack was eternally grateful that she had been available again tonight, and the thought was enough to stir him to have the driver alter the route just slightly, taking him to a small craft market near his house that was having its summer night-market, taking advantage of the late sunlight and warm weather. Jack was going to pick up a token of his appreciation for her stepping in at the last minute, yet again. He had seen it the previous week, when he had taken the kids through the stalls of hand-made toys and artisinal cheeses. A small pendant on a silver chain, with a stone the name he couldn't remember. It was small and fairly cheap, but he hoped that the gesture was taken in the spirit it was given. Had it been twice the price he would still have bought it, as the stone had reminded him so vividly of her eyes.
The brief detour had revived him somewhat, putting him in a better frame of mind for the return home, and he even felt a pang of disappointment that it was most likely the children had succumbed to sleep already. Holding the small gift bag, he paid and thanked the driver and headed into his house, his home, his castle.