The stacks of paperwork in the station shifted; it was a faint shift, a subtle shift, as if a window had been opened to a breeze. And then--

A hand shot out from the top, reaching for the empty air above it before curving down to hold on tight. It pulled and another hand joined it, soon followed by a blonde head that gasped for air that wasn't filled with meaningless forms. Once free from the paperwork that had buried her, Angua slumped slightly, resting before extricating herself entirely. She flicked a Post-It away from her ear.

"I hate this place."

She looked around the office a little and realized that she may have been in that paperwork for longer than she'd first suspected. She sniffed, tentatively.

"Friday?" she realized. "I've been in there since Wednesday!"

She grunted as she continued trying to climb out. "I really hate this place sometime..."

But, on the bright side, at least she didn't have to teach that week?


[[ establishing her lack of posting due to my computer fail yesterday, which I still feel bad about, but station is definitely open! ]]