Okay - not real life but inspired by it. Don't laugh at the bad grammar or anything, it's what they like to call rough. Hehe. I started writing it at work. Not sure if I will finish it.

Emily bit down hard on the plastic tip of the Bic pen she was holding. Her gaze was fixed straight ahead and downward, her forehead wrinkled in extreme concentration. Or irritation. It really looked like either. Mostly she was looking at the worn spots in the carpet from where people always walked. It was almost like she could see actual footprints there. Every so often, she took brief glances at the clock on her desk. The second hand seemed to move slower and slower every time she looked, as if it stopped ticking altogether before moving again.

Emily had done her best to entertain herself, but there's only so much computer Solitaire you can take before your eyes start to glaze over. "Only thirty more minutes," she thought. "Then I can get the hell outta here." For a brief moment Emily remembered the Drew Carey quote about hating your job and having a support group called the bar. She smiled because she never realized just how true that was until now.

With eager anticipation, she thought about the baseball game scheduled for tonight. It was the final game of the American League Championship Series between Boston and New York. The Red Sox had come from behind to tie the series and the outcome of tonight's game decided which team went on to the World Series. Even though Emily lived in New York City, she wasn't a Yankees fan, much to the surprise of many people she met. She hoped to witness the Red Sox deliver a crushing defeat to the Yanks.