Joyful Orange Wall

Arianna is giddy when she opens the can of “Joyful Orange” paint. It’s a perfect hue of orange: vibrant and optimistic. She dips the stir stick into the paint and mixes, unleashing something so bright that she knows this wall will be key to keeping her productivity up—at least, according to what she’s read. Orange: enthusiasm and energy!

After stirring, she dumps a little into the paint tray, the orange already shining like a beacon. She stands, the clear plastic tarp under her feet crinkling, and grabs the foam roller leaning against the wall. She coats the roller in paint and makes a long swipe on the wall, creating something brighter than white. Smiling, she gets to work. 

***

“I love your wall!”

“That’s…a choice.”

“I wish I had your courage! I could never go with such a bold colour.”

“Is that a new zoom background?”

Arianna didn’t expect her wall to garner such divisive attention. However, when she looks at the mini zoom video on the lower right of her screen, it stands out. No furniture or prints marred it so she could soak in the orange like the sun. 

Her final meeting is with her marketing manager. Kate is only a few years older than Arianna, but she wears the additional experience in the form of boundaries and self-care. She expects hard work. At the same time, she’ll tell you to take a hike if it looks like you’re becoming overworked. Literally. While, normally, Kate seems calm and collected, today she’s frazzled. Her short brown bob looks messy and the little bit of eyeliner she’s wearing is slightly smudged. 

“I know it’s short notice, but we need a workflow for the new product launch by tomorrow morning, if possible. Product sprung this on us on short notice. Think you can handle it? You’ve been here for, what? Three months? You should have a pretty good grasp on workflows at this point. ” 

Arianna’s to-do list is already long. Still, she doesn’t want to disappoint Kate.

“Of course! I’ll start working on it right now.” Arianna smiles, eager to show off what she can do. 

***

Arianna takes her laptop and sits on the carpeted floor, back resting against the orange wall, as if she could absorb its vibrancy through the power of osmosis. There’s something about sitting on the floor that’s comforting. Maybe it’s because she never had a desk in her room growing up? Her all-in-one desktop sat on cheap carpeting, with keyboard in lap, back against the mattress on the floor, and that’s where she wrote essays, applied to colleges, and watched anime. Even without a desk and computer chair, she still aced every class, optimism prevailing. She knew that every A got her closer to a college with a bed on a frame and a desk. At least this carpet is plush. 

She starts a blank workflow in their customer relationship management software. First, she needs to find the emails for the workflow. She glances through the most recent emails that have yet to go out, searching for anything to do with “error monitoring,” Riley Networking’s new service on top of other monitoring solutions they offer. Nothing. She types “error monitoring” into the search bar. Nothing. There are no emails.

Well, crap. She slacks Kate asking if David wrote the emails, their other marketing specialist. 

Oh, I’m sorry! I guess I didn’t make it super clear that we also needed the emails written for the workflow. Totally understand if it’s too much for one day’s work!

Anxiety spikes in Arianna. No emails. She looks at the time: 2:15 pm. The workflow she envisions needs, at a minimum, five emails. But, it’s only five, right?

No, I got it! Just wanted to make sure there weren’t any written and I was missing them.

Perfect! Once again, thank you for doing this on such short notice! Just make sure it’s done by tomorrow morning and we can review it together. Also told the rest of the team that this is your number one priority!

At the same time, Arianna gets a ping from another team member, asking if she has the content ready for Google Ad graphics for their new monitoring service and that she “can’t start the graphics without the copy.” 

Not yet! Drafting up the emails today, but I should be able to pull copy tomorrow morning after going over them with Kate.

And then another ping from Drew. 

Sales need to know when the workflow is turned on so they can add it to their own workflow.

Ariana answered ping after ping from people asking about the new product launch. 

It wasn’t until 2:47 pm that she finally opened Google Docs to start drafting emails. She’s on her fifth email, her butt aching from sitting on the floor, when her husband, Andy, walks through the door. 6:30 pm and she still hadn’t started the workflow. 

He leans against the door frame and looks down at her on the floor. “Comfortable down there,” he chuckles. Then his eyes take in the wall. “Definitely not getting our deposit back. Can’t believe you chose the brightest orange they had at Home Depot.”

“Yeah, well, it’s going to be worth it when I nail this workflow.” 

Andy has no idea what she’s talking about. “Right. Anyways, were you able to make dinner?” 

The answer is clearly no by the state of the kitchen, spotless, and the two Hello Fresh bags still in the refrigerator. 

“Sorry, been busy with work. I probably won’t be done for a while. Do you mind making dinner tonight?” 

Andy has a blank look on his face. “I’ll just order something for us. How do you feel about pizza?” 

“But you keep telling us we need to eat at home more often.”

“It’s fine.” 

Arianna wants to tell him it’s not fine. He constantly berates her when she orders lunch or dinner when she’s too exhausted to cook. 

“You sure you can’t make the Hello Fresh? It should only take an hour, tops.”

“Naw. Unlike you, I commute two hours every day. It doesn’t really feel fair to spend an hour making dinner. I’ll do pizza for pick up.”

She wants to argue, to push back, but then she looks at the last email she needs to write. 

“Yeah, okay. Order pizza. You know what I like.” 

Andy reaches down and kisses her on the forehead. 

***

By the time Andy returned with the pizza, Arianna had finally started the workflow. Pepperoni and sausage with extra sauce. She’s sitting back at her desk to eat and mull over the triggers she wants to use for this workflow. 

If [first name] opens this, enroll them in this workflow. If [first name] clicks on this link, send them this email. It’s all logic. And yet, when she tests it out, something always goes wrong. A missed trigger. Emails saying "Hi [company name]" instead of their first name. It’s never-ending tweaks. The summer sun shines bright on her orange wall, though, as it finally sets around 8 pm. The warmth from her beautiful new wall keeps her going until 10 pm. 

Somehow, she’s done it. The workflow finally works! Exhausted, she closes her company laptop and gets ready for bed. 

***

Good news! Product has pushed the launch out to next week.

Sigh, of course. 

***

This is how Arianna’s days go for the next three months. She never misses a deadline. She’s available for every call. She promptly answers Slack messages. She has her video on during all call meetings, proudly showcasing her orange wall and company shirts she’s been sent. 

At their sixth-month performance review, Kate tells Arianna that she and the company are incredibly happy with her performance. “Keep this up, and next year, we might have to promote you to Senior Marketing Specialist.” 

People at work constantly comment on her cheerfulness, enthusiasm, and optimism. So, when people murmur about potential layoffs, Arianna brushes them aside.

That is, until January, when an unexpected 9:30 a.m. meeting with Kate and an unknown person appears on her Google calendar. 

She accepts the meeting. Kate did mention a promotion. 

Arianna clicks the zoom link at 9:26 am, bubbling with excitement. 

Kate and someone named Marian, a blonde woman in what appears to be in her mid 40s, join the call. There’s a solemn look on their faces. 

“Good morning, Arianna. My name is Marian, and I’m with HR. We invited you to this call because the company hasn’t met their revenue goals for the past two quarters. It’s with a heavy heart that we have to let you go. We will give you three months worth of severance…” Marian continues with her spiel, but Arianna barely registers the rest.

“Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t understand.” Arianna’s eyes turn to Kate, pleading. “You said I was doing well. That you could see me getting promoted. I have metrics showing improved click-through rates, impressions, and open rates. I’ve not only met my goals, but surpassed them.”

Kate looks at what Arianna can only presume is her video. 

“I’m really sorry. You did do a fantastic job. It’s not a you problem, it’s a money problem. And, unfortunately, when companies struggle with money, the first thing to go are employees.” 

***

The meeting ends. Arianna is numb when she starts typing her goodbyes into Slack. Before she can hit send, her computer shuts off. She’s been kicked out of the system entirely—absolutely zero time to pull metrics from her successes for her resume. 

She gets an email notification on her private email, the one she used to apply for this job, with next steps and what she needs to sign to get her severance. Instead of opening it up, she turns away from her desk and, through blurry eyes, sees a garish orange wall.