January 6, 1895 — Ministry Break Room
Elias Grimstone Effie Clarke

It was midday, and Viola was grateful for a break. Her job wasn't really difficult, per se, at least not on an average day, but sometimes it also included filling up her entire day's quota for talking to people by the time she'd finished her first cup of tea. And talking to people was objectively Viola's favorite part of the job, so that was really saying something.

When she entered the break room around noon, Vi was at least pleased to see a friendly face already there. "Was your morning as tiresome as mine was?" she asked Effie in lieu of a proper greeting. "I'm starting to think something's in the water."

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“I am one more support owl away from disconnecting Mrs. Stanley’s fireplace from the network forever,” Effie said vehemently, sure that everyone was as well familiar with that name from her office’s sagas as she and her colleagues were, these days. (Hopeless and yet persistent Mrs. Stanley, who seemed to have a new problem with her Floo everyday, and yet who never seemed to learn how to use it in her eighty-odd years of life.)

But she shot Viola a wearied grin, taking a bite of her turkey sandwich as she gave her friend a chance to join her. And she could be first to air her complaints today; Effie had plenty, but she was happy to take it in turns. “You must be right. Could it be the new year? It’s given everyone some new resolve to be –?” She waved her hand, looking for a word to encompass it. Obnoxious?

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Oh, Mrs. Stanley. Viola wished that she could blame her problems on the woman's age, but according to some of her older colleagues, she'd been like that for a long time. There was just no helping some people, apparently. "I don't know," Vi replied, "but it would certainly explain things." She sighed. [b]"They've definitely resolved to cause a lot of paperwork,, if nothing else."

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“A Ministry-wide epidemic,” Effie muttered, with a long-suffering shake of her head. Clearly Viola had not been safe from it, if she was complaining about the paperwork only a few days into the new year.

“Have you already exhausted all your holiday goodwill?” she asked, teasingly – though she hoped Viola had had some time away from her desk over the festive season, and had returned with a little more patience. Or did coming back after time away only make things that much more egregious? It was hard to say.

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Viola snorted. "I think I might be getting there," she said. In fairness, she hadn't really expected anything less. Maybe if she dealt with fewer people on a daily basis, she could have extended the good will a little longer. Alas. "I hope every year that they'll be better this time, and it hasn't happened yet."

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