Being Milton

When I was told in November that my job was eliminated, I joked that I’d still keep showing up to work — either at the current place or the company that was buying our assets — in hopes that eventually they’d start paying me.

Me and my little red stapler down in Storage Room B.

So it’s only fitting that I moved into a new office on Tuesday. An office that used to be our storage room.

It’s official. Forget being Viola. I am Milton Waddams.

To be fair, the office had already been cleared out a week earlier for the owner. It’s pretty nice, actually. Spacious and with a wall of windows.

He decided I should have it.

Yesterday he came looking for me. He was so pleased to see me in there. Said he loved how I arranged it. Said I deserved it.

He also thanked me for a project I rushed through earlier in the day. I said no problem; you made it easy. He said, well, you make everything easy.

It was a nice moment. And in that moment, I was happy I decided to stay.

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