Gemotions

"So, you're the new one," the supervisor, a woman whose name escaped her, had greeted her with a dismissive wave. Clara had been moved from HR to the customer service line. It was a role filled with frustrated clients and repetitive complaints. She felt the knot in her throat tighten.

The phone rang incessantly. Each call was a fresh wave of negativity, a torrent of grievances. By mid-afternoon, her shoulders were hunched, her voice felt strained, and her spirit felt crushed. She rubbed her temples, attempting to alleviate a pounding headache.

She knew she should be efficient, helpful, but she struggled to muster even a semblance of enthusiasm. The words came out flat and lifeless. The monotonous drone of the calls seemed to seep into her very being, numbing her. When the clock finally chimed 5, she didn't feel relief, just a profound emptiness.