Gemotions

The elevator ride to the fifth floor felt like an eternity. I leaned against the cold metal, watching the numbers flicker upwards with no interest. The transfer to customer service. I knew that my old boss had felt I was “wasting my talents” in the archives, but I liked the quiet, the order, the familiar routine. I didn’t want to be “customer-facing.”

My stomach churned, a knot of anxiety tightening with each passing second. My hands, normally steady, trembled slightly as I buttoned up my blouse.

The doors opened, and a flood of noise and energy spilled out. I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and stepped into the chaos.