As soon as I finished this bulgogi bowl, I was going to march confidently into Jon’s office and ask for that promotion. It was time to reap the benefits of all my hard work. I was ready for growth, for change, for recognition of my accomplishments. This year, I would make my intentions clear. If you wanted one, you had to ask for it. So you couldn’t just sit around and expect a promotion to fall in your lap. Their interview process was designed to root out the unproductive and unenthusiastic they only hired the best of the best. This was Virtuality, a top-tier tech company specializing in cutting-edge artificial intelligence software. My performance was consistently stellar, but that was also true for most of the other five-hundred-odd employees at the company. In the five years I’d been working here at Virtuality, I’d never received a rating lower than 4: Exceeds Expectations. “You know there’s nothing to worry about, right? You always get a stellar review.” “Your performance review?” Ben asked, casually scrolling through his phone. I’ve got a meeting at one.” My mouth went dry at the thought of it. “I can’t stay long,” Vimi said, between breathless bites of her sandwich. At least, when we didn’t have to work through our lunch breaks. The three of us always ate lunch together. I took it over to my usual table in the back left corner, where I sat down next to my usual crew, Vimi and Ben. The line cook, Dwayne, knew exactly how I liked it-“No green onions for you, Nicole!”-and placed it on my tray with a warm, familiar smile. On the day in question, I ordered a beef bulgogi bowl.

For one thing, our menu was designed by the most recent winner of Top Chef. The food was far superior to anything you’d find on an undergraduate meal plan, though. That was what they called the cafeteria at Virtuality: the “dining hall.” Like we were college students instead of full-time employees. The first time Parisa’s wedding plans disrupted my schedule, I was eating lunch in the company dining hall. Inevitably, something important always got shunted aside. I wanted it to work-I tried to make it work-but in the end, there was no room in my schedule for both her plans and my plans. Otherwise, I could kiss my hopes and dreams goodbye. A meticulously organized schedule, with important meetings and strict deadlines. And I would do whatever I could to help make her day as special as possible. If she wanted to have a magnificent celebration to honor their union, then dammit, that was what she deserved. Hardworking, intelligent, loving, supportive. Let me be clear: I was absolutely thrilled for her. Parisa’s wedding plans were extremely disruptive.

Life, Unscheduled by Kristin Rockaway