Gemotions

The ringing in Eleanor's ears wouldn't stop. It was a high-pitched whine that seemed to intensify with every passing email notification. Her desk, usually a haven of organized chaos, was now a disaster zone. Scattered papers, half-finished reports, and crumpled sticky notes littered the surface, a visual representation of the turmoil within her.

She found herself checking the time every five minutes, each tick of the clock amplifying her unease. The interview was scheduled for 2 pm. Two more hours. Two more hours to… what? Prepare? She hadn't eaten breakfast and felt lightheaded, her head swimming.

The constant chatter of her colleagues felt abrasive, their casual conversation a cruel reminder of normalcy she could no longer access. She longed for solitude, for the ability to simply... disappear.