Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the accounting department hummed, a sound that usually blended into the background, but today it grated on Eleanor's nerves. She stared at the spreadsheet on her computer, the numbers swimming before her eyes. The transfer to Marketing had been finalized, effective immediately. A promotion, they'd called it. She felt a leaden weight in her chest, a profound disinterest in the new opportunity.

She hadn't eaten breakfast, hadn't even felt hungry. The coffee in her mug was cold, like the inside of her. She’d always preferred the quiet certainty of debits and credits. Now, she was expected to brainstorm “innovative campaigns.”

Her reflection in the darkened screen showed a woman with slumped shoulders and eyes that seemed to have lost their spark. She took a shaky breath, the air feeling thin and insufficient. The thought of facing a new team, a new boss, and new demands filled her with a sense of immense, paralyzing fatigue.