The following Monday...

The weekend breezes by you and in what seems like no time at all, you find yourself sitting back at your desk at work, reading emails and processing data like nothing happened - but you know that couldn't be farther from the truth. Where normally, the sounds of people passing and bantering would be enough to frustrate and distract you, today is different. You're in an inexplicable zone of heightened confidence, thirst for accomplishment and discipline. Gone are the psychological restraints and pressures of your superiors' expectations and your peers' petty politics.

You glance at the clock. Ordinarily at this point in the day you might have already made a second trip to the bathroom or the water cooler; anything to make the drearily long hours pass by. Instead, two hours and a half had already passed by without you even noticing. There's no motivation to slack off at all on the flimsiest of pretexts. You smile to yourself before looking back to your screen. Maybe it's a Pavlovian response to a brand new system of positive enforcement at work.

"Hey, man."

A familiar, sheepish drawl resembling the most threadbare of attempts at an apology interrupts your mental flow, and you turn your gaze sideways. With a paper cone in his hand, Brad peers over the partition of your cubicle, scratching the back of his head in his habitual way.

"Heard that Ms. Wu demanded to see you in her office, personally," he continues, rustling his hairs even more frantically. For the long time you've known Brad as a distant colleague, you know that his modus operandi has been no more than covering for himself, and he's horrible at being a liar. Or sincere. "Sorry about that; you're not mad, are you?"

Ordinarily you would have shot him your best "not convinced" face, followed by an angry remark, but all things considered, the surreal weekend you had wouldn't have happened if not for his usual tardiness and sloth.

"Meh, just don't do it again," you mutter casually. This earns you an over-friendly thump on the back. "Aw, thanks man! You're such a pal!" You feel the sides of your lips curl into a devilish grin; Brad would probably saw off an arm and a leg had he known exactly what Ms. Wu had to see you for.

After that unwanted interruption you look back at your screen. Normally you would have taken the whole day to go through the mass of replying and formatting, but you find yourself almost three-quarters done. You could finish the rest of your work now, but the disruption by Brad has caused your mind to wonder. Idly glancing downwards, the view of Rebecca's perky posterior forms in your mind, heaving and shaking in her spicy, sultry manner. The memory causes you to start hardening, and the memory of the previous Friday's marathon of office romping seizes your attention completely.

You sigh as you push yourself away from your desk; it's not like you're in any rush, and you deserve a break anyway. Maybe - if your luck from the weekend hasn't faded - someone might be willing to help with your new little problem...