*****
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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