Stan sighed as he slipped his punch card into the slit on the side of the machine. When he removed it, the time was stamped in the wrong spot. They were supposed to correct it when that happened, but Stan put his card away without caring. They weren’t going to fire him after all.
He lingered in the kitchen until his boss eyed him. Then he dragged himself to his desk and fell into his seat. He shuffled papers listlessly for thirty minutes before he managed to swallow his dissatisfaction and begin working at the stumbling pace of the apathetic.