Gemotions

Sarah’s new desk felt impossibly small. It was wedged between two boisterous colleagues in the marketing department, a world away from her quiet corner in accounting. Her meticulously organized inbox in her previous role was a haven. Now, the constant stream of emails, Slack notifications, and casual office chatter was a deafening roar. She clutched the stapler, her knuckles white, as if it were a life raft.

The first team meeting was a blur of jargon she barely understood. Buzzwords like "synergy" and "blue sky thinking" swirled around her head, making her feel detached from the conversation. She took notes furiously, trying to capture everything, but the words seemed to slip through her fingers. Her chest felt constricted, and a knot formed in her stomach.

She excused herself from the meeting and went to the restroom. Staring at her reflection, she ran a hand through her hair, smoothing down the stray strands. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The transition felt like being thrown into the deep end of the ocean without any flotation devices.