alexicography

des·ul·to·ry /ˈdesəlˌtôrē,dəˈsəltərē/ adjective

1. lacking a plan, purpose, or enthusiasm.

It wasn't that she hated her job, per se.

It was that her job awakened this deep sense of impending and unending dread and gloom about the path she was on for the rest of her life, just trudging along until the months and years and decades passed and then she was dead and what did she have to show for it?

A thirty five year career of sitting behind a desk barely registering life as it passed her by. And she wasn't even a quarter of the way there.

“Hey, Kate,” a familiar voice startled her out of her...hmm, what was the exact opposite of a reverie? Waking nightmare? Daily existential crisis?

“Jeez, jumpy much?” Richard joked, thankfully oblivious to Kate's black hole of thoughts.

“Ha, sure,” Kate replied uneasily, her thoughts scattering with the presence of Richard, her boss, before her. Get it together girl, do not let him see the intensity of how much you do not want to be here. She internally shook off her ennui for the sake of the conversation before her. “What's up?”

“I was passing by,” Richard chuckled to himself, and Kate smiled thinly, because of course he was passing by, this is how office floor plans worked, “and decided to check in on how you're feeling about our OKRs for the year.”

OKRs. Objectives and Key Results. A slap in the face to Kate, who objected to the key result that her life had turned out as.

“Optimistic,” Kate allowed, keeping that thin smile in place, no teeth, no light behind her eyes. But Richard didn't notice, because he never did. Thank goodness.

“That's great to hear!” Richard bellowed, moving to clap her on the shoulder before catching himself, because initiating physical contact at the workplace only got dicey with full follow-through. He redirected his incoming palm to an awkward slap on her desk, a hearty Keep it up, chum! of a motion.

She nodded, hoping and praying that this requisite interaction could please just hurry up and end soon so she could get back to her wallowing.

Somehow, for once in her life, her prayers were answered, because Richard continued his jaunt through the office and left her in peace. Kate sighed.

“Optimistic, you? Really?” Michaela sneered from the desk across the aisle. Of course she'd been eavesdropping. Though to be fair, was it eavesdropping if the office encouraged an open floor plan and constant mini-moments of human interaction?

Since Kate did not like Michaela, she decided that yes, it was definitely eavesdropping.

Kate attempted to ignore the barb, which encouraged Michaela to roll her desk chair across the aisle and right up into Kate's very limited personal space. “You haven't been optimistic a day in your life,” Michaela goaded.

“That's where you're wrong,” Kate said. “I'm particularly optimistic that you'll leave me alone.”

Michaela huffed. “Whatever. I was gonna see if you were free for happy hour tonight, but consider that invitation pre-revoked.” With that, Michaela swiveled her chair back over to her desk and aggressively ignored Kate's presence.

Kate had never joined Michaela and the Cool Crew for afterwork happy hour, none of the scant times Michaela alluded to an invitation just out of reach.

Yes, Kate considered that group the Cool Crew, like she was a high school loner gazing longingly up at the popular lunch table from her spot on the grass by the least smelling trash can.

Kate wondered not for the first time why these undeniably cool people 1) worked at this company, and 2) welcomed Michaela into their good graces.

Kate never wondered why she wasn't welcomed. She wouldn't welcome herself either.

But in Kate's defense, these people were literally the definition of cool. Like, folks who actually peaked after high school, and continued to peak as their lives paraded on and on like a sparkling celebration of being alive and thriving and basically crushing it. Mountain climbers who never had to trudge down the other side, but also never got winded. In fact, each upward step was more invigorating than the last.

That was not Kate. Kate was winded on the very uninclined path she found herself on. Maybe once upon a time, a past Kate would have cared more. Or maybe once upon another timeline, an alternate Kate would have done something about it.

But this Kate, well, she didn't hate her job, per se. She just didn't have the energy to imagine any other way.