Once upon a time there lived a girl. I say 'lived', but when you pencil-push all day in a staid old-fashioned white-shoe environment where hyper-caffeinated co-workers cram into air-conditioned offices with windows that are not made to open, but which are cleverly outfitted with kitchens and showers (to make sure you never need to leave the office)... when that's how you live, the use of the term 'living' might be considered by some to be a bit cavalier.
Anyway, that's how this girl - we'll call her Gin- I mean, Gia, began to view her life. Every day a string of bland pointless meetings where lawyers, bankers and businessmen flung around terms of art and argued over placement of prepositions in documents that would never be read by anyone other than the handful of printers and one or two bleary-eyed interns. The confident stride that had carried her through her first few years at The Company eventually devolved into a weary resentful shuffle.
Even the prospect of foreign travel with even a soupcon of romance had become a pipe dream, particularly after the last four holidays she had planned with friends had been cancelled due to last-minute 'office emergencies'.
She was nearing the end of her rope.
Poor Gia...
But then one day her fairy godmother prompted a client to call for a meeting in PARIS...
Anyway, that's how this girl - we'll call her Gin- I mean, Gia, began to view her life. Every day a string of bland pointless meetings where lawyers, bankers and businessmen flung around terms of art and argued over placement of prepositions in documents that would never be read by anyone other than the handful of printers and one or two bleary-eyed interns. The confident stride that had carried her through her first few years at The Company eventually devolved into a weary resentful shuffle.
Even the prospect of foreign travel with even a soupcon of romance had become a pipe dream, particularly after the last four holidays she had planned with friends had been cancelled due to last-minute 'office emergencies'.
She was nearing the end of her rope.
Poor Gia...
But then one day her fairy godmother prompted a client to call for a meeting in PARIS...