Post Blues

She stares at the computer screen blankly for 5 minutes, waiting for inspiration, lightening, anything…. to strike but not even a staple pin stirred. Exercising patience, she waits for some more time….nope, no luck.

She types out the sentence “She stares at the computer screen blankly for 5 minutes...” in apathy. Then, due to sheer lack of anything else to do she changes the font from Times New Roman to her all-time favourite font Verdana, & the font size to 10. Then she stares some more.

She can hear the Marketing Manager’s crunching on chips in the neighbouring cubicle. If she turns her head ever so slightly she can see him thru the glass partition. But who wants to see a Manager, anybody for that matter, stuffing their face?

She turns her head away in the other direction and her eyes fall on the designer who is yawning his head off at 10 ‘O’ clock in the morning looking like he is ready to wind up for the day. She controls the urge to yawn herself & looks pointedly away only to see the autoCAD draftsman trying to access the orkut page stealthily. Orkut is officially banned in the country she resides, however, can be accessed if one was aware of alternative ways to get it.

Almost everybody asks if she was accessible on Orkut. In the beginning she never felt bad about saying she wasn’t but lately she has taken to wondering whether she was missing something. Oh well, she’s got a profile on Facebook but what good was it if she never went there.

The cleaner walks in & salutes a cheery Good Morning. She responds with a smile, & watches him get down to work. Listlessly she turns back to her monitor, her smile disappearing. The partially blank document mocks her.

The Marketing Manager leaves for an appointment & almost immediately 80% of the workforce gravitate towards one corner of the office to read the paper, have coffee, catch up on eachothers lives. They beckon her to join the party.
“Gimme 2 minutes” she gestures.

The phone on her table rings. The Project Manager calls to inform the status of current going ons & also to entrust some work. She notes them all down in her handbook knowing that she better get to work immediately otherwise it will spill over her working hours. The thought of not accomplishing what she set out to do gnaws at her.

As the cursor hovers on the X button of the partially filled page, she straightens up in her seat slowly. Her eyes sharpen & a bent finger creeps towards her mouth unconsciously as her mind races “Dare she do it???????”

Dare she put this up in the guise of a new post??????????????