Disclaimer: I don't own Cats.
AN: No, my stories not over, for those that are asking. There are still several more chapters to go. I can't very well end the story with a fight, now can I?
AN 2: The next couple of chapters are probably going to be boring, nothing really to do with any jellicles, but it sort of ties into the plotline, and they're optional to read.
It was Monday all too soon. The past couple of nights Blaise hadn't slept well. She kept having strange dreams. Something about the moon, and dancing, and there was a figure..Blaise was tired of dwelling on it. Either way, she was tired and grumpy, and not looking forward to work. But here she was, sitting in her cubicle, and once more having to type of reports. Her co-workers kept coming in and asking her how her weekend went.
"I lost track of Friday night and all day Saturday." Blaise answered them. "No I don't know what happened. I just woke up by the junkyard Saturday night, and there was this kitten. Scampered off when I stood up." The answers confused her just as much as they confused her fellow employees. Still they asked. They asked if she needed any coffee, or if they needed to call a doctor, or something. Blaise kept refusing. She just wanted to be left alone.
Midday, she found herself dozing off as she stared at her computer, her short brown hair falling forward into her face. Blaised jerked awake when she heard a voice above her. Blinking, she looked up. It was her boss, Mr. Carmichael. He looked rather unimpressed. "I'd like to see you in my office right away, please. Come whenever you find yourself with free time." Mr. Carmichael walked off then, leaving Blaise alone. Was she going to get fired? She hoped not. She took her time organizing her desk, and shoving some of the folders out of the way. Finally, she stood up, her heart pounding. She was terrified of going back to the office. It wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation. The tone in her boss's voice had told her that. Blaise decided to walk as slowly as possible.
She passed by a few cubicles, and the people inside them waved hello, or just stared at her as she walked by. All too soon she reached his office. After knocking, Blaise heard him call for her entrance, and she walked in, putting the most pleasant smile on her face as possible. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Carmichael?" Blaise chirped.
"Have a seat, Blaise." The man said. He turned to the computer on his desk, typed something, and then shuffled some papers to the side, before facing her again. He cleared his throat. "Blaise, if there's anything going on, I would want to know about it. I understand you've had a rough weekend, but that's over. You're alive still, and safe. What I don't understand is why you're slacking off." Blaise looked down at her hands. They were shaking.
"I guess I'm just tired. I'm not usually like this." She said. There was a silence, and then Mr. Carmichael sighed.
"Blaise, I've noticed you slacking off more than once. You seem to be making a habit of it. Friday night, you didn't clock out until three hours after your shift. Wednesday of last week you spent an extra half hour on lunch break. Last month you called in sick three times. I know you weren't really sick on any of those occasions." Mr. Carmichael cleared his throat, and launched into his main point. "Blaise, I don't know if we'll be able to keep you. I don't know how devoted you are to this job."
"I'm trying to do better. You'll see an improvement, I promise." Blaise said. She didn't say she needed the money to support herself. This job gave her the money she needed to keep up her two story house. Blaise loved that house, and dreaded a lower end job. She would have to move into an apartment if that were the case. "I'm sorry, my life has gotten so hectic and I.."
"I don't need any excuses right now. I'll tell you what. You seem eager to keep the job, but you also seem too distracted to work today. Take the rest of the day off to think about things. I'll let you decide how serious you are. I want to believe you can do it, but you have to prove that to me. Okay?" Blaise let out a shaky sigh.
"Yes sir. I'll see you tomorrow then." She stood up to go. Right when her hand was on the doorknob, Mr. Carmichael had one more thing to add.
"Oh and Blaise, take a nap. You don't look so good." He was smiling, so Blaise meekly returned the grin and left. Returning to her cubicle, Blaise organized her desk for real this time. While shutting down her computer, she realized she was crying. There was no way she could afford to lose this job. Gathering up her things, she half jogged out of there, hoping no one would see her crying and assume the worst.
Leaving the building, Blaise took a deep breath. She wondered what was wrong with her. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts she didn't notice a small cat in her way until she almost tripped over it. It was pure white, with no collar. A stray. Blaise had no time to comfort the mewing kitten. With her foot, she nudged it out of her way. "Shoo, cat. Go away." The cat hopped in front of her again, but Blaise just stepped around it and continued on to her home. Blaise threw herself down onto her bed and burst into sobs. Her life sucked.