Big Boss

I mean, really, big. She’s huge. Literally. 

So I’m in some strange-looking office and I was supposed to report to this big woman. She looks like those very rich women who can afford to eat anywhere and stuff their faces anywhere they go, hence the size and a closet full of black clothes. 

She wore black clothes and always has her hair tied back in a ponytail, her face fully made up. Apparently she is somewhat feared by most people in the office and they were all wishing me luck, but secretly, for fear of being caught by MY boss, not by their boss. 

Later on I went to a corner where my cubicle was supposed to be, and I passed by a small guy who’s supposed to be my officemate, but he’s kind of weird so no one really minds him. He looks like one of my classmates when I was in 5th or 6th grade. He’s the really shy, quiet type who are nice but talk to themselves most of the time. So, as I passed by him, he was writing on the palm of his hand using a pencil. Briefly, I thought to myself that you can’t write on your skin with a pencil. However, I saw his kind of stretch out his hand and I saw that his palm was indeed full of pencil scribbles and it was almost gray all over. I think I said something to him the way I would talk to a child, and went to my cubicle, which looks like a dream desk of a maturing teenager - full of nice officy things yet very cute and most teal and magenta and shades of pink, with lots of glassy stuff and white furry covers and containers. 

It was all blurry in most parts so those were the only parts I remember. All the stuff on my desk were nice, though. I remember feeling less afraid of my boss when I started seeing and touching and fixing the pretty stuff on my desk