During the first week, the telecom company gave me a fairly manageable workload. For now, I’ve had ordinary, no-excuses workdays behind me — eight solid hours each day.

On Monday, a few minutes before ten, I was already waiting for Adam, trembling with anticipation. I’d deliberately left my hair slightly damp, hoping the wet strands would make him imagine me stepping out of the shower.

On Tuesday, everyone showed up at the pool right on time. I was surprised, though I didn’t let it show. I didn’t want them thinking they were doing me a favor.

Adele’s reaction to the couch was exactly what I expected.

“Pale lilac? Have you lost your mind?” she stared at my new piece of furniture in disbelief. “What were you thinking when you picked this color? That you’re about to make so much money you can afford to replace it every month anyway?”

On Monday morning I walked to the office. The cold bit into my face and crept up through my wrists all the way to the back of my neck. I dug through my bag to see if I’d packed my gloves after all, but just as I suspected, they were nowhere to be found.

The first entry from my ridiculously comfortable velvet armchair. Though when I think about the fact that I’ll be buried in work for the next six months, this might be the last one for a while.