I started writing this morning, and here's what I have so far:

Fingernails bitten to the nib
Dirty blonde hair
Hazel eyes


She chewed her fingernails, a disgusting habit for a sort of scientist. Well, for anyone, actually. She chewed them down to the quick, leaving the surrounding skin ragged and peppered with blood. It only got this bad in moments of high stress.

Currently, she was stuck in a traffic jam. She adjusted her glasses on her face and rolled her window down. The sun beat heavily down on her and everyone else stuck on Mopac this warm May day. A small breeze blew strands of her dirty blonde hair into her eyes.

Too late, she heard the traffic report on the radio. Damn, she muttered to herself. She picked up her cell and dialed her officemate Juan. "Hola, hey."

"Hey, Julia - Que pasa? Where the hell are you?"

"Um," she hesitated to admit her tardiness to her friend and co-worker. "It looks like I'm going to be late getting back to work. You're going to have to do my presentation for me."

"What?! I know nothing about your work with the city of Amarillo. How am I supposed to do a presentation on it?"

"Please, please. My notes are on my desk and the Powerpoint presentation is on a CD on top of them. I'll owe you big. Whatever you want . . ." Her boss had warned her about her constant lateness. She knew she would fare better if Juan led her presentation than if no one did. The car in front of her turned its hazards on. Jee-zus.

Juan pondered her offer for a moment, then answered. "Okay, I'll do it. You're lucky I have a light workload today. Hopefully I can pull something out of my ass. You owe me, for sure. I'll think of something for you to do to repay me. Maybe next time Patty and I want a night away from the kids, I'll call you instead of a sitter."

Julia inwardly groaned. Was it common knowledge that she had no social life? She did love Juan's girls, luckily.

"Okay, thanks. Hasta luego - well, whenever I get out of this awful traffic!" She hung up and sighed. She was safe from firing - for now. Sometimes she really disliked her job. Intensely. Coworkers like Juan, however, made it somehow easier.


Juan looked around the room at officemates, bosses, and some higher-ups while launching into Julia's PowerPoint presentation. Julia and city workers had combined forces on setting up alternate sources of energy. She was supposed to presenting the current results (so far) of same collaboration. However, she had gone somewhere for a long lunch. She hadn't exactly explained why she hadn't gotten back to the office in time, but he trusted her reason to be a good one. He just hoped that Tricia, their boss, wouldn't can them both. She was the only one there who had expected Julia to present her work herself.

When he was halfway into explaining Julia's work, she came into the room and sat next to him, breathing like she had run all the way from her car. He handed her notes off to her, as she said, "Thank you, Juan. Are there any questions so far?"

She hoped her suit was professional enough, and not completely stained with the sweat the Austin humidity had caused her. She was slowly getting her breath back, and was able to finish her talk without a hitch.

Tricia came up to her afterwards, saying through the smile on her face, "My office . . . 10 minutes. Commissioner Hernandez! Always a pleasure!" She left Julia in a disappointed state. She was sure that what she had done was copasetic. She sighed as Juan walked up.

"Oh, Juan, thank you so much."

"It's okay. Your notes were pretty clear, and I think I got your point across. Don't count on me doing it again, though. Why did you cut it so close?"

"It's a long story," she assured him, hoping he wouldn't ask again. "Pardon me, but I have go prepare myself to meet Tricia." And start sending out resumes, she thought to herself.


That night she sat in her rented house replaying moments of her "conversation" with Tricia. Tricia had sat on the edge of her desk, a somewhat chummy and close position, yet not so much. She had basically confronted her, saying, "Your work is terrific, Julia. That's not the issue here. The problem is that I just don't think you can be trusted to represent our department. You are consistently late, you had to have Juan - who doesn't even deal with your region - cover for you before the commission members, and there's more I could add."

I don't need this job! Julia had wanted to yell. But sadly, she did. She rented a quaint ranch-style house in a rather infamous part of town, lived quite frugally, but needed her money for other reasons.

The discussion had not gone well, and now Julia felt very unsure of herself. She needed some positive affirmation. She flipped open her laptop and

- and that's all I have so far. I have no great plan for this, but it is going better than any of my other attempts lately.

edited: because punctuation in Word doesn't translate.
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