13 Hours of Dedication

I plodded down the main hallway toward the lobby. Darkness had long since fallen outside and I spared a tired moment to feel grateful I’d left the building for lunch.

“Wine, please,” I told the waitress after a very busy morning (for me, not necessarily her). “Something white, I think.” My dining companion nodded his approval and I perused the menu before deciding on chicken salad. I began to sip when my glass arrived, enjoying the golden liquid as it warmed my throat just enough to notice.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever had a drink with lunch before,” I confided, already reaching eagerly toward my glass again.

“Good time to start,” he decided and I nodded in agreement before wondering if I could have two glasses.

Probably good I didn’t, I thought as I giggled again during a meeting. I tend to get a bit happy when I’m tipsy and though I certainly didn’t feel drunk, everything did seem Really Funny. But then Adam said Japan wasn’t part of Asia.

“What?” I chortled and stopped when I realized he was serious. “Oh,” I breathed a bit too dramatically. “May I declare that Missouri is no longer part of America?”

“Why Missouri?” Marlie asked, head cocked with curiosity. I opened my mouth to answer and closed it while I thought.

“I don’t know,” I finally admitted. “I like Missouri, I guess. Maybe I think it should be it’s own entity.” Then I started to giggle again while Adam told me I’d better gain some skill if I was going to imbibe during the noon hour.

Two meetings, one paper and many emails later, I realized I was returning phone calls after 5PM. I had more questions and decided to carry on with my work before heading home.

Twelve hours after I arrived, I decided to head home to my neglected puppy and cat. I glanced at the note stuck to my bag, reminding me that another group was visiting and where they’d be running experiments all evening.

Screw that, I thought sleepily. I’m going home – I’m so tired and I’ve done enough. So it was with some surprise that I walked through the lobby toward the labs rather than to the door that would place me outside and closer to my car. Why aren’t we leaving? Part of my brain inquired as I scanned my ID to unlock a series of doors.

“Hi,” I said when I walked in a room and greeted three men. “I’m Katie.”

“Hey,” I bent to cuddle Chienne about an hour later. I sat in my new chair and wrapped my arms around a giant, wriggling dog. I rested my cheek on her back while I said I’d missed her too. “It was a long day,” I told her, though she wanted more petting and less talking. “But I think I’m getting rather dedicated to my job.”