Tired and cynical is no way to check email.

You pull away from the gate onto the highway and rush home. You've heard enough stories from friends to make sure you keep your speed right at the limit though. Cops like the free money speeders offer, especially at night. It's only a 45-minute drive though so you are only moderately cranky when you get home. You really hate being up after midnight.

You find a place to park close to the building door and trudge up carrying all your stuff. Between Austin and this job, you really do wonder if you'll ever need to buy your own shoes again. You catch movement out of your peripheral vision and look over just in time to see Jim's blind shut. Great, creepo is keeping watch.

He doesn't come out and intercept you on the way in though. You climb the steps and get in your apartment without any issues, thank heaven for small favors, you think. A 2 am chat with Decard would not have made you happy.

You look at your phone and check your texts. Just one from Kat.

"Tks for the cash, I got the shift. Glad yr escaping this crazy place! See ya!"

You pound out a quick reply.

"Sry to lve you dry like that. Keep frosty!"

Kat is good people, kinda shady people to be honest but she never let you down. That means something in your book. Maybe you should give her a ring sometime soon about FireBox? Best to wait and ask Walker first. I mean escort and video have to be better than selling weed and giving out $50 hummers in the parking lot right? She's 26 though and you aren't sure where the company is on age and such.

Then you see the mail icon is lit. You get that some folks really like it but email is a drag. Texts are short, sweet, and easy to tap out on the phone. If you need to email something, it's long and involved. Not a good phone activity at all. You put your cell on the charger and head to the kitchen.

You grab a bowl and put it on the counter. Then you grab a pair of small potatoes and wash them up. They get dumped in a bowl, you jab holes in the tops with a fork and put it all in the microwave. While it cooks, you grab a quick shower.

Ten minutes later you're back in the kitchen in your robe and fetching the potatoes. You chop them in half, scoop the tasty white insides out into the bowl. Next, you toss in some low-fat sour cream, a fair amount of avocado, and pronounce it dinner. You grab a hard cider from the fridge, carry it all to the desk, and cut the laptop on. After digging out the USB device from the FireBox case, you're ready to tackle the email.

Spam, spam, spam. . . mountains of the damned stuff, you frown. After shredding it all you find five that might be worth your time.

The first is from old Jim about the Wednesday evening apartment inspection. It's just him saying he'll be here at 6 pm. If you hadn't seen the blind action earlier, you might have wondered why it didn't have some sort of come on in it. He probably just didn't want it on a message you could forward. He's a careful creeper, you guess.

The second is from Walker reminding you to check in sometime over the next couple of days to discuss work. You make a note to ask about Kat and figure you'll get to it. You deserve a day or two to get things straight so maybe Thursday?

The third is from the college reminding you that you have to report to the financial aid department to finish withdrawing from school. Too bad they can't enter the 21st century, you can file taxes online but have to visit in meatspace to pull out of college. The car isn't due until 1 tomorrow afternoon. Take care of school, drop the ride off and Uber home sounds like a plan.

The next is from your drama teacher. Professor Edwards lives up to that title. The first few paragraphs are full of woe and disaster about how entertainment is the lifeblood of the community. He may actually believe it. He is an acting teacher and his long-term girlfriend runs the local theater business. They serve coffee during the week and throw together low budget plays once or twice a month. She's easily 10 years younger than he is, so acting helped him with something, you smirk.

You don't buy that you're such a fantastic talent he can't bear to see you drop out though. When the class plays dress up once a month to act out scenes from famous works he never gives you the lead, you always get whatever part shows your ass the most. He's a classy perv though, he's never actually come on to you. Hearing him out might be interesting enough to put off the withdrawal a day or two. The best case is you drop the other two classes and 'work something out' with him. It might be enough to salvage your financial aid in case of an emergency later. Worse case? He buys you coffee. Seems worth thinking about.

The last is from Jack. This one really surprises you. He strikes you as the type that likes to get laid and move on to find another victim. . . ummm partner. During the casting, he seemed to revel in putdowns and nasty talk. He was at least moderately interested in the fucking too but you got the idea the nasty talk was the real turn-on for him. Few women will tolerate that crap after all so getting away with it probably worked for him. He's another older guy that likes the power of sticking it to a younger woman. He didn't seem midlife crisis old though.

You finally read the mail and see he's playing it close to the vest. Hi, hope you're well. . . yada, yada, yada. It doesn't take long before he mentions a business proposition he wants to discuss with you and includes his contact information. Sounds like he's just looking for a way into your panties again, you figure. That's what the last bit of 'business' was anyway. Still, he had deep enough pockets last time. Maybe a call to Kuhn later in the morning? If you remember your first chat with him, freelancing is a big no-no with FireBox. So Kat and Jack are now in your notes for the Walker talk.

So five emails and a bunch of stuff for the to-do list. Yep, email really is the worst invention of the digital age. You set your cell alarm for 9 am already hating the idea of fewer than 8 hours sleep. You hang the robe on the back of the bathroom door and climb under the covers. Sleep claims you quickly thereafter.