Dammit all to hell. That list has to be in here somewhere.

Have I looked through those boxes yet? I think so. I should have marked them, or made a list or something.

A list. That's what got me into this mess in the first place.

There are noises in the hall. People outside. Coffee. I need coffee.

No, I need to find the fucking list.

God there are a lot of boxes in here.

I had a plan. I wrote everything down, numbered every box. Organization, that's my motto.

It's all gone.

I had a plan. It took me a long time to figure it out, but I had a plan. Everything I wanted to do and needed to do and wished I could do.

Gone. Washed away in a wave of things I shouldn't have to know.

Paper. So much paper. How can I breathe under two tons of paper and lies?

It's my job. That's what they pay me not nearly enough for. Keep up with all the little bits of paper that cross Josh's desk, and most of the other desks in the West Wing. File them away so when the President sets up his library, he'll have papers to publish.

Even if he can't possibly have any use for 87 index cards on philately.

Oh hell. I do not need Josh in here now. Why is he even here? Doesn't he have a job to do? Isn't that why Toby ...

"Were you here all night?" he asks.

I mostly ignore him, although my brain seems to think rambling inanely is the right way to go about this. I consider asking him for coffee, not that he would ever take me seriously, but my mouth ignores me and keeps rattling on about English lit midterms until he breaks in.

"Can I ask you something?"

"I had a plan," I say. Whine, really, but I can't bring myself to care.

I was so careful. I listed everything I put in here so I could find it all if I needed it again.

I never expected to need it all, right now, this soon.

I never expected this. I never expected the President, of all people, to pull the rug out from under me. Under us, I mean. All of us.

How could he do this to me?

I can't yell at him. He's still the President. I still need my job. I don't know if I could leave anyway.

Josh will have to do. He didn't even bother to tell me himself. I had to hear it from Toby.

"White-collar crime boy!" That's the best I can do?

I really really need coffee.

He almost smiles and for a freeing moment I hate him. "Seriously, you need to sleep for a while."

"Your office is down a corridor, about two hundred feet from here," I sneer. "Try not to commit any felonies on the way."

He's gone. Thank God.

Now where the fuck is that list?