She entered the building. It was 7:07am. Monday's were the worst. She knew she'd have a stack of material to proof. All the artists always stayed late friday night so they could come in late on Monday nursing their weekend hangover. She never had that luxury. As the managing director of marketing, she was usually first in, last out. Director in name only. She was given the title when the previous full time director retired, and in an effort to save money, the company made her managing director, but she was required to still work her previous job as artistic supervisor. Triple the workload, and for not even double the pay. It was supposed to be temporary, and they'd hire a full time DIRECTOR when the economy recovered. So they said. She'd probably end up quitting before then, but she wanted to get some more time under her belt as director. It should help her to find another position.
She walked into her office, and turned on her CD player. One of the perks of having an office was being able to listen to what she wanted, and not on headphones like the cube slaves. She cranked up From Here To Infirmary. It always got her going on Mondays. It was the CD she listened to the most when she was in college. It reminded her of her days working on art projects when it was fun, and not corporate dronery. She sat down at her desk, and started to go through the proofs. Another day, another couple dollars. After going through three proofs, all of which were hideous, she walked out of her office, and out of the building. She needed some coffee. It was going to be a long day.
