Smile, smile.

Mini-Armageddon happened in our workplace that day.

We forced ourselves to relax in the local Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf. I absently chewed the end of a dark honey stick, while he ate a chocolate chip cookie. Neither of us was willing to speak about anything related to what happened.

An entire division in our office was dissolved, its members (quite graciously) laid off. Several got slammed with the pink slip, otherwise known as the Official Letter of You Got Served.

I wasn't among those who got paid just to stay away from the office, but my other half was. The thought of not working with him again distressed me immensely.

I was deep in thought when he forced the honey stick away from my lips.

I spent the entire day bottling up my emotions, and this seemingly small act of vexation pushed me into the edge. Almost in tears, I quickly excused myself to the nearest toilet.

When I got back I saw him bent over a piece of tissue paper. He used the honey stick to draw an awesome smiley face on the tissue. I laughed, despite myself.

I returned to my seat, and l looked at him from across the table. He looked so relaxed, even content, with his scruffy John Lennon shirt and his Cheshire grin. I started to sip my Ice Blended, with a small smile forming on my own lips.

"Look, I know you're down and all, but hey. Window closes, door opens, right?”

"I'm not sure if that's how it actually goes," I said.

"...Well, you get the point."

Then it hit me: I was too preoccupied in my moment of despair that I failed to notice that yes, things can - and will - look up from now on.