3AM, 6AM, doesn’t matter. It’s too early. Gotta get up. Outta bed now. Zombies look better. Get that coffee. Focus on something. Distraction from sleep. Get some food. Still groggy. That drive’ll suck. How’s the weather? It’s cold out. Warm in bed. Still gotta go. Can’t use sick leave right now. Just get going. Gotta dress nicely. Gotta look presentable. “Where’s my purse?” Warm up the car. Now I’m late. Today’s gonna be a grind.
“I.T., this is Sam.”
“Sam, Tia. Got a weird one, but first, how’s your baby? Healthy?”
“She’s stoked to be over at my parents this week, thanks-”
“Sure. Occasionally seeing this since yesterday. Rebooted. Sent you photo. Says battery life: 6800 hours.”
“Huh. Well, does it hold a charge?”
“Yes, going bad?”
“Probably… I’ll email you the battery model. Expense it, send me the weird one, and let me know if it persists.”
“Sure, appreciated. Bye!”
Downtown, midday, overcast.
Tia mulled over the presentation while working on her last cigarette. The numbers were bad and the stakeholders already accepted one delay. A third shot of espresso was helping to calm her nerves and headache, until the phone rang violently.
It was Simmons.