Productivity

## Meta

**Timing:** 9 Jun 2015, late afternoon

**Setting:** Jackson's workplace

## Text

Jackson tilts his head and studies the work-in-progress on his screen.

Colours're looking good, lines ... not so much.

All the fiddling around's sucking the life out of it.

Maybe go back to one of the earlier—

A balled-up piece of paper bounces off the side of his head.

Jackson jumps, stylus flying.

Dan asks, "Where /**were** you just now, mate?"

Jackson blinks, swivels his chair ninety degrees.

Nosy Neighbor Number One leans wall separating their cubicles. "I tried getting your attention, like, three times."

"Uh ... working on the Glennwood thing?"

Dan narrows his eyes. "You're not sure?"

Jackson looks back to his monitor and tabs through the open programs: the current version of the painting, two abandoned sketches (kept just in case), at least a dozen tabs of reference photos of [Aboriginal] skin tones and braided hair, his email, and, finally, the ridiculously intricate model he's supposed to be finishing. He sighs.

"What's she look like?"

"Wha?"

"The girl? The one you're clearly mooning over?" Lifts an eyebrow. "The one you changed clothes for?"

Jackson looks down at his jumper. Frowns.

"Don't tell me you're not sure what happened to it, either."

"Lent it to her," mumbles Jackson, smiling faintly.

"You are /**such** an open book." Dan crosses his arms, tucks in his chin. "Think it's mutual?"

Jackson sighs. "There a reason you're bothering me?"

"Two, actually." Holds up one finger. "First, wanted to check on the Glennwood thing since it's due tomorrow and I did my part already—"

"It'll be done in a couple of hours."

Holds up another finger. "—and, second, why'd you give a girl your jumper?"

Jackson checks his shoes. "Spilled hot cocoa on her."

"Then it's /**definitely** mutual."

Jackson brightens, sits up a little straighter. "Why d'you say that?"

"Doused her so you could give her the shirt off your back? How could she /**not** be smitten with a smooth bastard like you?"

Jackson huffs, picks his stylus off the floor, pushes back to his station with a little more force than strictly necessary, taps back into the model.

Dan rolls his eyes. "Aw, c'mon, Jones, lighten /**up**."

Jackson pokes at the wireframe.

"You have to get your jumper back, right?"

An affirmative grunt.

"So, you've got another chance to charm her. You can show off your extensive knowledge all things nerdy."

"Shut. It," growls Jackson. "And kindly fuck off if you want me to finish before your deadline." Stabs the tablet.

Dan throws up his hands. "Fine, fine. It's quitting time—"

Jackson glances at the clock—

"—for those of us who didn't spend the afternoon daydreaming—"

—and mentally face-palms at the time.

"—so shoot me a text when you finish."

"Yea, whatever." Jackson waves dismissively.

["Better hurry up or you'll miss your weekly check-in with Lily." Dan shakes his head. "Still don't understand what she sees in you."

"We're /**friends**."

"Too bad no 'benefits' anymore, ay?"

Jackson pinks, makes an obscene gesture.]

Dan snorts. ["Best 'a luck!"

Jackson grumbles, listens] to Dan gather his things and saunter out.

Sets the stylus aside and scrubs a hand over his face.

Takes a deep breath.

"Okay," he murmurs to himself, "finish this and /then you can paint." A sigh. "Right. Good plan. Let's do this."
Grabs the stylus and attacks the model.