Just Another Day In The Office

Finally, the looming edifice of the office building came into view, a modern-day citadel of business. I parked my car in the bustling concrete courtyard, like a knight returning to his castle, ready to embark on the day's quest.

The workday began at 8:30 am with a meeting, as usual. The conference room transformed into an arena where ideas clashed and mingled. It was a battleground of concepts, with arguments and counterarguments swirling like a whirlwind. Mr. Vincent, played the role of a conductor, orchestrating the discussions with a firm hand. He was the maestro of the accounting symphony, and the cacophony of ideas gradually formed into a harmonious arrangement.

However, the harmony was often disrupted by the dissonant notes emanating from Mr. Vincent's office. His phone calls were relentless, the financial equations we were trying to balance became elusive puzzles as Mr. Vincent's booming voice reverberated through the office. It was as if the walls themselves shuddered under the weight of his words. Today, It was a place of constant turmoil, where chaos reigned supreme.

Being related to him and all I had to shoulder some of the responsibilities weighing on him, while also attending to the countless calls of my name across several other departments.

In the midst of the tumult, I often found solace in the view from my office window. The world outside was a canvas of serenity, a painting of tranquility. I watched as the city buzzed with life, like a beehive of activity. The streets were rivers of motion, and the buildings stood as sentinels of progress.

At noon, I ventured to the office cafeteria, a place of respite from the storm. The lunch break was a moment of calm in the midst of the tempest. I watched my colleagues unwind and recharge. It was a time when we shed the armor of the numbers and calculations, revealing the human beneath.

The afternoon was a continuation of the morning's battle, as we delved into spreadsheets and financial reports. The numbers were like soldiers on a battlefield, and our task was to ensure their alignment. Yet, the cacophony from Mr. Vincent's office never ceased. It was a relentless assault on our concentration

As the day waned and the sun cast long shadows, I couldn't help but reflect on the journey from my cozy abode in the morning to this chaotic battlefield. It was a day of contrasts, a pendulum swinging between the tranquility of the city outside and the chaos within the office.

Finally, as the clock struck 5:30, the day came to an end. It was a relief to step out of the office, like a prisoner tasting freedom after a long sentence. The city had transformed once again, with the evening lights painting a new picture of life and vibrancy. The journey home was a retreat, a return to the comfort of my abode.

Upon reflection, the day emerged as a rich tapestry of experiences, woven together with the threads of routine and disruption. It served as a poignant reminder that life's symphony consists of both harmonious melodies and discordant notes, and it falls upon us to seek equilibrium amidst the chaos. As I turned the key and closed the door to my home, I was acutely aware that tomorrow would unfurl a fresh chapter in this ongoing saga, a continuation of the intricate dance between order and chaos within the realm of numbers and finance.

I Realized the absence of network reception on my phone I had fished out from my cross-arm bag. It appeared that I had, once again, depleted my data. Swiftly, I renewed my subscription, ensuring a seamless connection to the digital world.

**PING** - Vibly 9:26 am

The message illuminated my screen, ushering in a stream of texts

"Woah, you wake up so early."

"By the time you sent me the text, it was already like 10 am in Thailand."

"By the way, does your last name have any particular meaning?"

Darn it! I hadn't even found the opportunity to log into this app today. I had promised myself that I would carve out time amidst the daily grind of office life to come online.

But why was she asking me the very same question I'd posed to her? Well, she did inquire about my surname. Fair enough. Daniel, a common name with a simple meaning. And, as my culture often intrigued, she had an answer of her own. Wait, wasn't that a tad rude? You could have at least addressed my inquiries first. Oh Yes! I did have a habit of waking up early.

"Umm, 10 am. My time zone is about 6 hours behind."

"Yes, Ojemen is a tribal name from my culture. It means 'A Good King.'"

"Oje = king, Men = good."

"We have about 17 languages just in my state. Mine is called Esan."

"Over 500 for the whole country, but English is our lingua franca."

"Your English is really good, by the way."

"Sorry for the late replies. I'm not always online because of work."

"And not even a regular job, it's an internship program in electrical engineering."

Whoa, that's a lot! I hoped I didn't overwhelm your dm with too much information. Perhaps I'm just frustrated that I couldn't have a proper conversation on this app with the only person who seemed to pique my interest. My emotions swirled like a turbulent sea, a mix of curiosity, eagerness, and a hint of frustration.