Dementors

I stand by the coffee machine, pouring hot water into my maroon mug and a bag of Earl Grey tea. The vibrations of an 18 wheeler streech up behind with the stomp and flop of birkenstalk flats, unmistakably the Office Vampire. She screeches a "Happy Monday," and waits until I acknowledge. Shortness of breath, dilated eyes - I'm in panic mode. The hot water is still filling up -a 30 second process, which now feels like an eternity in purgatory.

"Morning, OV," I say - unavoidable hellos are a bitch.

There's only one logically way out of the kitchen for me and OV, a mother of one, divorced, aged 64 years, stands in my way and I already feel her vortex of a wormhole for happy thoughts sucking all the fun I had this weekend out of my mind and body. Where is Harry Potter's Petronus when you need one.

"My cats have been at it again. They keep stratching at my new curtains. But they're so cute. They're so intuitive. I get along with my cats better then people...and I got Betti a new bed this week..."

Just shoot me, right now.

She continues "... have you been following the story about the kitty that got trapped inbetween walls in NYC? Amazing story, the cat was there for two weeks and...."

I can't breathe.

M walks into the kitchen to toast his bagel.

She continues "...Hi, M. Is that sesame seed? You ever wonder what a sesame is? Like what they grow into?"

Poor Bastard. Avoid eye contact, avoid eye contact and walk quickly.