I’ve been staying inside the cubicle for 15 minutes already, trying my best to calm my heart and shaking legs as I take deep breaths.

I screwed up. I definitely screwed up this time. I can already imagine myself packing my things and I can’t wait for the time when I could just shrivel under my warm blankets and spend the rest of the day watching some Netflix and eating popcorn.

I heard the restroom door open followed by familiar sound of footsteps not before a locking click ensued.

“People won’t be able to pee or take a dump if you lock the door,” I said while trying my best not to squeak. I hurriedly wiped the tear stains on my cheeks and started fanning my face to cool off.

“They can just take their pee and dump in some other floors then,” the voice sounded closer, too close actually and I glanced down to see a pair of heels just in front of the cubicle I’m in.

“Get out Wendy,” Irene said in a neutral tone.

I didn’t respond.

“The manager said I should talk to you and you know I’m not really into this kind of stuff,” I heard Irene heave a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” I said and soon tears started to fall again.

I clasped my mouth with my hands to prevent any sound of crying from coming out of me, but I know Irene had already sensed it.

“Fine. You can talk to me in there.”

I heard a thump from the cubicle door, and I noticed Irene leaning against it from the narrow space below.

“I know it’s embarrassing that you got scolded like that in front of me and the intern who happened to do the job better than you but if there’s any reason for that let me hear it,” Irene said in a calm manner.

I took a deep breath as I began to speak, “You revised 95% of the report which is almost everything.”

 “I did.”

“The manager said that I should take example from the intern assigned to assist me.”

“Yup, you should.”

“I did a half job and let down the expectation set on me.”

“You did.”

“This is not the first this happened and usually I’d get on my feet fast and take failures as a lesson, but things keep on happening again and again.”

This time Irene didn’t say anything.

“It feels like I’ve been screwing around and I don’t have the same passion anymore in doing things with excellence. It’s like I’ve lost touch in everything that I used to be really interested in,” I also slumped back against the cubicle door and hugged my knees closer to my chest.

“Well are you?” Irene asked.

“What?”

“Were you screwing around? They say that when you’re not interested in something anymore, something has caught your attention,” Irene explained.

I kept mum for a few seconds before answering.

“I’ve been watching a lot of videos online. I’ve been into gaming during my free time. I’ve also been into writing poems lately,” I said.

“And you did those things instead of focusing in your report,” Irene asked rhetorically.

“I used to spend my weekends learning stuffs related to our job. I used to spend my free time doing extra work, so I won’t get too loaded on weekdays. I used to give a lot and I receive praise by working hard but now it’s just,” I paused.

“I don’t know if I really like what I’m doing right now. I distracted myself from all those thoughts and I ended up doing less than what I should, and it made me so frustrated,” I continued.

“I feel like the Company would be better without me and I feel that it would be good for me as well since I won’t be too stressed and it’ll be good for my mental health,” I took a piece of paper inside my wallet and unfolded it before sliding it under the door to pass it to Irene.

Noticing the piece of paper, Irene took it and read through the words and I heard her chuckling after.

“A resignation letter? Seriously? You’re giving me this inside this restro