Overqualified Copy Girl

It was just a job I told myself as I yanked jammed paper from the bowels of the copier. The toner on my arms didn’t bother me at all, in fact it reminded me of my passion.

I loved painting and design. That’s why I took this job at the magazine. Unfortunately, I was stuck making copies, filing, and serving coffee to those who actually got to touch the templates for the magazine pages.

“Is that thing still broken?!” an exasperated voice behind me exclaimed.
“No.” I angrily slammed the door, but they were in too much of a hurry to wait the five seconds it took for the thing to spit out my copies and reset.

Already late for the presentation, I took them to the conference room.

“And there are my copies of the new layout schematic!” my boss announced at my arrival. I promptly handed them out, fake smile plastered on. “This layout will focus on our new blog buzz spotlight. Oh, and copy girl, would you get me some water?”

I scowled when my back was turned; So glad I’m going to the beach tomorrow!

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