Cassie walked into the den, pulled out the chair in front of her computer, and sat. She'd spent a long, depressing day at work dealing with her asshole of a boss and feeling like a financial prisoner. Economics forced her to stay in a job she abhorred. Loneliness consumed her and she hung her head. What she wouldn’t give for someone who understood her plight—someone to wine and dine her to help forget the day’s stress. The thought of coming home to no one except her eighty-year-old mother pushed Cass into a darker hole of self-pity. Even the antidepressants the doctor prescribed didn’t seem to help anymore.
Why was it so hard to find a decent man? So many worked in her office, but there was no mutual attraction with even one of them. There she was, a lone female lost in a sea of self-centered men who despised her for achieving a level of status with them, and a new boss who made her feel like crap. They didn’t express their feelings with words, but it didn’t take a Rhodes Scholar to see they resented her. If only she knew why. Because she was smart, successful, and deserving?
Cassie released a pent-up breath and turned on her computer. Why was finding a man so important to her? She’d always been an independent woman who made her own decisions and answered to no one. Why now, after so many years, did she feel so hollow inside? Spending the rest of her life alone and unhappy wasn’t what she wanted.
She leaned in and traced her face with her finger, watching her reflection in the empty screen. At forty-nine she still looked good. Her wardrobe was based on current fashion trends complete with matching accessories. She colored her hair regularly to hide the beginning wisps of gray, and if she did say so herself, it looked natural.
Moving her hand down, she followed the curve of her body, making note of her slight waist and firm hip. She glanced at the gym equipment across the room, wondering if perhaps her time would be better spent working out instead of indulging in a last-ditch effort to find her “Mister Right”. Maintaining a size ten figure wasn’t easy, and, of late, she’d fallen by the wayside on her exercise. She swallowed hard to ease the lump forming in her throat.
Why did she feel like crying? Dark thoughts pulled her deeper into depression. There were ways to end this vicious cycle. An image of an empty pill bottle laying just a few feet from a limp body crossed through her mind - she shivered and shook her head.
This sets the tone for why Cassie Fremont turns to her computer for comfort. See you next week!
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