Gemotions

He stared at the spreadsheet, a jumble of numbers that swam before his eyes. Yesterday, he’d been deep in the warehouse, cataloging inventory, surrounded by the familiar scent of cardboard and machinery. Today, he was in IT, where the air smelled faintly of burnt plastic and ambition. A young man with bright blue hair and a nose ring was trying to explain something about “APIs” and “cloud storage.”

His head throbbed. He’d barely been able to configure the printer. Each keystroke felt like navigating a foreign language. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture automatic, and then felt a flicker of heat across his face. He felt like he was back in school, utterly lost in a class he hadn’t chosen.

“Just try it this way,” the young man said, his voice clipped. He pointed at the screen. He nodded slowly, feeling the pressure building in his temples.