Gemotions

"Morning!" proclaimed Chef Isabella, her voice ringing out through the kitchen. She entered the dining room with a spring in her step, her fingers drumming a rapid rhythm against her apron. She had that thing, the review, on her mind. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

Her staff exchanged knowing glances. They'd seen this side of her before – the infectious enthusiasm, the almost manic energy. She had high hopes for this review and had every right to feel this way. She felt like she was a kid on Christmas day, ready to open presents.

The review, when she finally found the courage to read it, was a brutal takedown. Isabella's face fell, the joy evaporating from her features like steam from a hot pan. She sat down with a thud, all her energy gone.