Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a relentless, irritating drone. Amelia tapped her pen against the surface of her desk, the rhythm a rapid counterpoint to the chirpy, overly enthusiastic tone of her replacement, a fresh-faced college grad named Kevin. He was eager, she’d grant him that, but his questions felt like tiny needles, pricking at her patience.

She gestured at the spreadsheet on her monitor. "That's where you'll find the client data. Just follow the formatting. It's… straightforward." Her voice held a clipped edge.

Kevin's brow furrowed slightly as he scanned the screen. “I’m a bit confused by the… exceptions field. The guide doesn’t go into that.” Amelia took a deep breath, the air thick with her unspoken feelings. She pointed again, slowly, deliberately. “It's for clients who don't fit the standard criteria. Just read the notes. They're all there.”

She watched him try to follow her instruction, arms crossed.