Wake up. Eat. Work. Eat. Work. Sleep. Repeat. My name is Tara Smith. I'm 28 years old and that was my daily routine. I had a busy job that payed minimum wage barely enough to pay for rent let alone taxes and food. Even when I worked overtime it wasn't enough. I mean come on, I was a woman and just like it had been since the beginning of time my gender meant that men were superior to me. They got more pay then a woman, a regular yearly raise, perhaps even a promotion was given once in a few years; But when I asked for any of these things I got the same old excuse. My work was incompetent. I wasn't trying hard enough. Even though I worked twice as hard as everyone in our department.
I was their lackey for gods sake!
Every morning the first thing I had to do when leaving for work was pick up everyone's order of coffee, having memorised it at the start of this petty job. Then I had to deliver their orders to each and every coworkers desk and only then could I finally sit at MY desk and start my day. On days the office had a night out to get lunch we would take turns deciding who would pay for that day. I was slotted in for the third person to pay during the month and every time it was my turn to pay everyone would order twice as much as usual, having no shame in doing so, just to piss me off.
It may seem like I'm asking for pity but I'm not. I could easily stand up for myself if I wanted to. I'm not a pushover. I knew what they were doing was intentional and chose to ignore it. Why? Well because if I reacted to anything, that would be giving them what they wanted. They were jealous of my confidence in my work skills. Everyone, including me was aware that I worked the hardest in the office and they wanted me to mess up. Mess everything up so that one day the head of the department would "let me go." Fire me. So I chose to keep the peace and ignore their blatant disrespect.
My personal life in general was ok. I had a few friends from college who I still kept in touch with and I hung out with them once in a while.
There was nothing really that special about my life. I did have a true passion though. I loved reading webnovels. Especially the very, very R-18 scandalous ones! I was a major pervert when it came to sexy love stories with extra spice and drama! It was a guilty pleasure of mine.
A recent one I was reading was called 'The Rich And The Noble.' It was about a woman named Yoshino Hana. Hana was from a poor family and had a very hard life. When she was fifteen her parents died in a house fire whilst she was in school, leaving her an orphan.
At the funeral a rich businessman man arrived saying that he was her mothers relative. He claimed that her mother had requested for him to take Hana in if anything were to happen to them. The evidence to this? A signed letter of permission to raise Yoshino Hana in the event of absence of the biological parents. So he took her in.
She lived with him and his son, who was her cousin. His name was Ashikaga Kenji. He was the future male lead. As they grew older Hana remained humble even if she was surrounded by wealth. Fast forward a few years and a few incidents…after many affairs, arguments and scandals Kenji and Hana get married and own the Ashikaga Industry together.
It was a typical Urban love story with the cliche wealthy man and poor woman falling in love. It even had a typical villainess who loved the male lead Kenji and tried to do anything she could to stop Hana from being with him but in the end would be defeated because the power of love is above all! *gag* I liked this only because it had major plot twists and there were very detailed descriptions of the two lovers in bed. Who knew a humble and petite woman could have such a high sex drive?!
My love life was as blank as a piece of paper so I resorted to such stories. What was the harm anyway right?
As I leaned my head on the desk all I could think about is when I could go home and sleep. I yawned almost drifting off. Getting up and sighing deeply I took a huge gulp of my coffee and started to work faster so I could head home ASAP.