Assume the position

Sit down. Boot up.

The computer I use to manage Victoria’s work calendar for meetings, appointments and personal reminders blinks to life. While it runs through its startup routines, I run through my personal routine. I get the large combination coffee/espresso machine started that sits on a small table against the wall between my desk and her door. The mini fridge under it stores the coffee beans, creamers, and personal snacks and beverages. Victoria is a snob in all things, so the expensive coffee beans have to be burr ground every day, and the pot is dumped and remade halfway through the day. Often she doesn’t even drink any of it. I enjoy a small cup of each fresh brewing, mostly to justify the waste. Dumping it out is my daily pet peeve.

I consider fucking with her precious coffee machine somehow, but if she barely drinks it, it would be wasted effort.