Oh, dear God (or Great Frying Pan in the Sky, for all I care – we all know no one is listening by this point, I should think), I am so freakishly busy. It’s appalling. Deadlines, deadlines, deadlines. And when was the last time you got in touch with another physical human being? Really. Honestly now. When did you talk to someone last? Been a while, hasn’t it? God, I hate deadlines.
And it’s not like Arthur’s suicide is helping anything. He worked with me, and he committed suicide two days ago when he heard about the GEAS. The news took a while to get to him, since he’s one of those I-am-above-internet-news people, but then when it did he just left work, went home, and the next thing anyone knew from him his cleaning bot found him. Dead. I didn’t even know cleaning bots had protocol for calling the bosses of their dead owners. And now the bosses are saying that the work still needs doing, needs it now, whether or not Arthur is dead. Ergo, more work for me!
I know this all seems callous, but I don’t really know how to care anymore. I worked next to him for four years, and I hardly knew him. I know some people purely through internet whom I’ve never met face-to-face better than I knew Arthur, and I hate that. I can’t mourn him. I don’t know how. But Arthur Ramsey was a good man, and he deserves better than a friend who doesn’t know him, who can’t mourn him.
And you know what the really sad part is? I’m the closest person he’s got. His parents are dead, he has no siblings, and no extended family. So I am charged with collecting his things and arranging the funeral. And I don’t even know him.
