"I hate my life." Pam said, slamming her palms down on the sides of the keyboard. The computer froze again. Not that Pam was ever one to complain, but it seemed kind of unfair that she had to deal with this computer from prehistoric times, while Michael was, at this very moment, admiring his new desk from Tuscany.
"I hate it when he does that to me!" She told the camera. "I know that hate is a strong word but .." Pam began to look down and pull at her wool sleeves. She looked up finally, her lips firmly puckered and eyes watering. "No, no! I do! I .. do .." She began to hesitate, but quickly tried to convince the camera, and herself, that this was worth hating for. "He just .." Her cheeks filled out and went red, almost exploding. "-does that, he just tells me there's no money in the budget, and then gets himself big, expensive, mahogany wood, and then you know what he has the nerve to do?" She asked, rhetorically. "He brags about it, in front of me." She leaned back her lips once again puckered, and shook her curly head.
"He-heey." Michael said leaning out of his door way. "Anyone wanna see my new desk? Anyone? How 'bout you bob?"
Bob had been the unfortunate person walking by at that moment. Bob hesitated and pointed to his desk, to suggest he had work to do. His mouth was opening and closing like a fish.
"No come on!" Michael said with a boyish grin, ushering Bob inside.
Pam puckered her lips at the sight of Michael inside, waving his hands in a circle around the desk.
The phone rang, and Pam closed her eyes, sighing, for just one ring, then picked up the receiver. "Hello," She subconsciously grit her teeth as she talked. "How can I help you?"