Workaholic

People tend to lead ridiculously busy lives. It is not at all surprising to hear such a fact.

People spend so much of their time multitasking that even the idea of relaxation is infused with a twenty step plan. There is no such thing as an easy or simple day. If it does not involve at least five activities the day is wasted and people are ashamed of such a blatant misuse of their precious time.

Josephine Waters was no different from anyone else.

A young woman in her late twenties, Josephine spent her time like everyone else. She spent it wisely. If she had a moment to spare, it was quickly snatched up by an activity or plan. There was no way she would ever splurge and allow herself a moment of ‘nothing planned’. She was a business woman, she didn’t have time for relaxation anyway.

Everyone knows that their time on the planet Earth is limited. At some point, hopefully when they are wrinkled and senile, they will find their next home six feet under a comforting roof of dirt and worms. Yet, that is not always the case. Sometimes people are taken away when they are young and just beginning to understand the world. Other times they are swept away just as they have stubbornly decided that they will not leave until they have gray hair and an embarrassing collection of dollies. Since no one dies at the same time in the same way, people are frantic with the time that they have.

Thus the sense of ridiculously busy lives and time wasted is a sign of a useless life.

However, Josephine didn’t bother with thoughts about her death. She had much more important things to concern herself over. There were reports to be finished, friends to be called, weddings to attend, babies to coo over, accounts to be balanced and so much more. If she attempted to spare a thought to her own demise, she would be simply too overwhelmed to do anything.

No, thoughts like that were left for a spare moment; of course, she had none.

Which is why it was no surprise that Josephine simply forgot about her own death. She’d missed it entirely. To be fair, she hadn’t written down in her appointment book. How could she possibly be blamed if she forgot on that Thursday’s lunch her heart was suddenly give out and she would fall, face first, into her Chef’s Salad? After all, she had been busy working right through said lunch on a report that was due at the end of the work day.

The most she felt was a slight twinge in her chest and the world turning gray for a very brief moment. She hadn’t given it much thought, no more than an irritated frown, as she continued on her task.

But all humans must leave the world of the living at some point. They have an allotted time and when it is up, it is their duty to leave the world much the same way they came in. That is to say, they tend to leave messy, screaming and with a lot of frustrated women in their wake. Frustrated because they have another mess to clean up.

“Mr. Carmichael,” she had said as she knocked on his office door.

Her boss hadn’t looked up at her voice, hadn’t even twitched as his door opened and she stepped into the pristine room.

“Mr. Carmichael,” she’d repeated, stepping up to his desk to place the report down. “I have the Ainsley report for you. If you have any questions, you can always call me. I’ll have my phone on me tonight.”

The man in question shivered, glancing to the open window behind him. When he didn’t appear to see anything unsatisfactory, he buried his nose back into his own work.

Josephine didn’t think much of his poor reaction. The man was rather near sighted, half deaf and full of himself to top it off. It was rare that he gave anyone the time of day. He was a busy man after all. Best say what she needed, drop the report on his desk and leave quickly. She did just that and hurried out of the office.

It wasn’t until the faint click of his door followed her departure that Mr. Carmicheal looked up. He blinked, eyes blurry behind his thick glasses. He frowned at the new report on his desk, not understanding where it had come from. Never one to question, he shrugged it off and tucked it away for later reading.

After she had gathered up all of her belongings, Josephine headed out of the office. She paused by the secretary's desk to pick up her mail.

“Have a good weekend, Charlotte,” she’d said as amiably as she could.

Charlotte didn’t look up from filing her nails. Her jaw clicked as she chewed her gum, an unfortunate side effect after a bad trip to the dentist.

Josephine arched an eyebrow but didn’t repeat herself. She turned and left the building, not thinking the lack of good bye odd. She and the black haired secretary had never gotten along well. Granted, they’d been friendly enough to at least say their farewells at the end of everyday. It was entirely possible that she had forgotten to compliment Charlotte’s new hair cut. There was no point in going back, Josephine had decided. She’d say her kind words to the newly styled hair tomorrow.

The route home was fraught with irritation. Normally, Josephine would walk through the middle of the sidewalk with a single mindedness that made sure she got to her apartment in under twenty minutes. People, generally, got out of her way and never did anyone speak to her. She was a busy woman, after all, and most people could see that.

This particular Thursday promised to change that norm. No one had moved out of Josephine’s way, forcing the young woman to sidestep quickly, stumble and shove her way through the crowds. More than once, she’d cursed another pedestrian, only to get no response. It served to frustrate her, making her curses more creative and increasingly loud.

To top it off, a strange man in a rather outdated suit had taken to following her as soon as she’d crossed the street from her office building.

Finally, a block away from her house, she’d rounded on him with a furious glare.

“Stop following me!”

“I can’t,” he called to her from a few feet back. “I have to make sure you’re going to the right place.”

“I am going to the right place,” she snapped, spinning on her heel and storming to her apartment building’s entrance. “I’m going home.”

“Ah, but what home, I wonder,” he’d returned in a wistful voice.

She barely spared him a frown as she pushed through the door and hurried to the elevator. In the safe confines of the tiny space, she took a deep breath and slumped against the back wall. It had been a hard week, so she’d planned a peaceful weekend to herself.

The gentle buzz of the elevator door pulled her eyes opened. Instantly she screamed, jabbing her finger forward to close the doors again.

The out dated suit smiled at her and tipped his top hat. “This isn’t your home,” he commented as he stepped through the doors that refused to close, no matter how hard Josephine stabbed the button.

“Yes, it is! How did you even get up here? No, don’t answer that. Get out! This is my floor,” she shrieked at him.

A quiet chuckle, the sound too calm compared to how enraged Josephine was, escaped the man. He stood close enough that she realized he smelled like vanilla and lilacs. A fact that didn’t ease her emotions at all, if anything served to worry her even more.

“No, this isn’t your home anymore,” he said as he gently curled his warm hand around hers and pulled it away from the battered button.

“Let me go, you freak,” she demanded, tugging at her trapped hand. “This is my home. I paid rent on time!”

With his free hand, he reached forward to hit the top floor button. Only after the doors had closed and the elevator started moving, did he let go of her.

“What are you doing?” She demanded, her hands balling into fists as she glared the man down. “I’m not going to your apartment!”

Very slowly, as if afraid to cause another outburst, he turned to face her. His blue eyes were warm, but sad. It matched his strained smile. He shook his head, once, expression never changing.

“That’s not an answer,” she spat, crossing her arms.

“Then, I shall explain it to you,” he said, voice sliding over her as if trying to verbally sooth her.

She eyed him, taking in his outdated, white suit with the cream waistcoat and gold buttons. Her arms tightened over her chest and she snorted, looking away from him.

“You are dead.”

Josephine’s head snapped back around so fast she felt something in her neck pop. She stared at the man like he was crazy. Considering all of the evidence up until that point, it was likely very true. She stared, eyes wide and unblinking. Then, her throat constricted and a strangled laugh escaped her.

“You’re insane,” she replied.

The man shook his head again. He reached up to remove his hat, revealing gently curling brown hair and a broad forehead. “Only by Human standards.”

She scoffed, stomping her foot once. “Human standards,” she repeated, giving her own little head shake. “Well, you’ve said enough today. I’ll just be getting off at the next floor, thanks.”

“No, you won’t,” he urged, hands curling around the brim of his hat. “Josephine Waters, you exceeded your time today at 2:05 in the afternoon.”

“I think I would have noticed if I died,” she retorted, glowering at the man before her. Honestly, how could he say such strange things. If this was going to be on television later, she fully expected some kind of monetary exchange.

“You missed the appointment.”

“Appointment... Huh, so that means I didn’t die then. I’m still getting off at the next floor.”

The blue eyes widened, then narrowed and the full mouth released a hard sigh. “No, Josephine. You didn’t do what you were supposed to--”

“Excuse me,” she cut in, swiping her hand down to physically cut off his words. “I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. I was working on the Ainsley Report which, might I add, I got done an hour early.” She stepped back, looking victorious. Her head was held high as she returned her arm to cross her chest.

Another sigh and she didn’t think she’d seen someone so disappointed in her since the time she had to tell her father that she didn’t plan on reading Stoker’s Dracula in her lifetime. The nervous hands replaced the hat to the man’s head.

“No, Josephine. You were supposed to go to lunch, suffer a massive heart failure and die in your salad.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound like a dignified way to go,” she huffed.

“Most don’t get a pleasant death,” he answered easily. “But it comes to us all, and you just happened to miss your appointment.”

“So, what? I don’t get to continue on until the higher ups can reschedule. I still have to die even though nothing happened?”

The man nodded. “Unfortunately, that is how it must be.”

“Bullshit.”

He blinked at her, clearly not expecting that particular combination of words. “Excuse me?”

“I said ‘bullshit’,” she said slowly, as if she was repeating herself to a particularly slow child. “How can I just disappear from the world when I didn’t even technically die? Is there just a body sitting in my office that suddenly passed away unexplainably?”

The man nodded again, although it was a much more cautious motion as if he didn’t know how she would respond.

“Wow, people have been around this long and you haven’t even found an efficient way to deal with the dead,” she drawled, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “Impressive. I can’t wait to spend an eternity with you people.”

The man stared at her, gauging the woman before him. He tapped a gloved hand against his thigh, thinking. Slowly, he smiled.

“I believe I have found the perfect place for you,” he announced.

“Yeah, alive and about to go on a four day weekend as reward for finishing the Ainsley Report early,” she retorted.

“I can not grant that. However, a position just opened up in our office building.”

Josephine frowned at him, keeping silent for the first time in the oddly long elevator ride.

“One of our organizers was recently promoted and no one has been able to fill his place. So far, you are the first likely candidate.”

Despite her irritation at having all of her plans rudely interrupted, Josephine lowered her arms and truly considered the man before her.

“Go on,” she said.

“Of course. It is much the same job as you have now. Only on a much grander scale. You will be tasked with ensuring that individuals meet their deaths timely and efficiently. And if there are any outliers, like yourself, they are dealt with efficiently and promptly. Finally, you will have to prepare reports on any unusual deaths in the world,” he explained in a smooth, practiced speech.

“Why weren’t things run like this before?” She asked, suspicion growing.

The man shifted, looking guilty. “As I said, the previous Organizer was promoted and we haven’t had time to find a replacement. Did I mention we were very busy. People die every day you know.”

For the first time since the man had appeared in Josephine’s afterlife, she smiled. She shook her head, amused. Her hands dropped to her hips and she took a deep breath.

“Well, I’d hate for you guys to be so busy you can’t even handle something so simple as death,” she teased, turning her gaze to the floor counter behind his head.

“So you’ll do it?” He asked, eagerly.

Josephine, eyes locked on the numbers that had quickly reached the thousands, nodded. She turned her vision back to the man before him. “I will. I have never been one to do nothing for even a short period of time. The idea of it last an eternity is just awful.

The man beamed, white teeth bright against his tan skin. “Wonderful! You shall start after all your paperwork is passed through.”

“Paperwork?”

“Of course. Death is a long process, you know.”

Josephine sighed. She’d get her time off after all, it seemed, but she didn’t have anything planned and that really bothered her.

“I’ll give you a tour of Eternity,” the man said, cheerful now that she’d gotten over the whole death thing; or seemed to at the very least.

“Sure. Do you have a name Mr. Stalker-turned-Tour-Guide,” she asked as the elevator shuddered to a halt.

The man nodded. He stepped through the doors, out into the plush carpeted hallway. He looked back at her. “Of course I do.”

“Can I know it?” She followed him out, looking around the warmly lit hallway with the cream and beige wallpaper.

“I suppose you’ll learn it soon enough, what with you becoming my boss,” he said. “I am called Bertrand.”

Josephine wrinkled her nose. “Outdated name for an outdated suit,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. So, boss, huh? When do I start work? How much will I have to do?”

Bertrand nodded, taking her barrage of questions in stride. In fact, he looked down right pleased now that she’d stopped yelling at him. “Yes, Miss Josephine. You will be my boss. All of those questions will be answered in four days. For now, I highly recommend you take the time to relax. Lord knows you won’t have a day off for the rest of Eternity.”

Josephine grinned at him. She hadn’t taken a true vacation since she was five years old. Most of her life had been planned out, not that she’d ever minded. In fact, she rather enjoyed the structure. To know that the rest of Eternity was going to be much the same pleased her. There wouldn’t be a second wasted. She would remain busy and every moment would be put to great use. She could handle a couple of days of pure bliss.

After all, it wouldn’t be a total waste of time.