The meticulous manager


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Photo by rawpixel.com from Pexels

Katy sits at her glass desk, watching her team through the glass wall. Her gleaming glass top, reflecting the morning sun on her perfectly manicured hands, as they flit across her keyboard. Her iPad screen glowing onto her neatly made-up face. She takes a pause from her busy morning at work, to sit up and pull her skirt over the top of her knees. Katy quickly looks up and through the glass walls at her staff, searching out their movements to determine their output. Every data entry coordinator seems engaged and Katy sits back a little in her chair.

She picks up a dishevelled pile of documents from and begins to put them in order, reviewing their urgency. All tidied up, she began to sort their priority and sorted each pile onto her desk. Katy looks up again and scans the room, watching to see if anyone on the team needs her help. They continue quietly, intent with their transcribing and telephone conversations. She decides to leave soon after five p.m. and re-briefs the shift leader on what the evening’s targets are, as she heads to the door, carefully making uniform strides, her back straight and head up, with her handbag carefully perched on the crook of her arm.

Her car is parked perfectly in her parking space. Katy sits with her legs and chest well distanced r from the controls. She turns the key and waits for the usual two minutes, before driving off. She heads home, stifling a yawn, as she pulls up her windows and turns on the air-conditioning to keep her face from perspiring.

Once home, she takes time to park right between the lines, then locks her car and walks into her apartment. Katy unlocks her door and walks in, throwing her handbag onto the sofa, as she kicks her shoes to the door and undoes her tight hair bun. She pushes her shoes from the day before away from her, as she launches onto the sofa. Last night’s packet of crisps sits open on the coffee table before her, as she reaches for the TV remote underneath them. She takes off her jacket and throws it onto the chair beside her, as she slides onto her side on the sofa. Her head rests onto a packet of biscuits on the sofa under the cushion and she groans, as the packet is crushed and crumbs fly all over the floor. She closes her eyes, drifting off to sleep, as her cat litters the floor with her canned food. Katy turns away and lies on her back, with the chocolate on her crushed biscuits melting onto her cushions. As she drifts off into a light sleep, she makes a mental note to get up early and start cleaning early tomorrow.

Katy’s light snores bounce off her living room walls, as her kitchen tap drips onto her dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. Her cat plays hide and seek with a few strewn meat wrappers next to the dustbin. Flies buzz and hit the closed kitchen window in the lazy late afternoon heat. The smells of stale garbage wafts into all the rooms, adding to the warm air of the apartment. The cat looks out of the streaking siting room windows, perched on the messy dining table, covered in used plates and old magazines. Katy snores and the cat shifts to the window sill reclining in resignation, shifting dead flies and cockroaches on the sill, shifts uneasily and finally sleeps.

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