[h1][color=teal]Declan Farraday[/color][/h1]
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Location: His desk (11) ----> Conference Room

Interacting with himself and the camera crew. [color=limegreen]Nana[/color] mentioned.
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[color=teal]”Yeah,”[/color] Declan said, before taking a long sip from a bottle of Dr. Pepper. [color=teal]”I suppose you could say ‘argumentative.’ It doesn’t seem like the right word, though. ‘Debatative’ isn’t a word, though. Plus, calling them debates makes me sound like a high-school debate team coach or a politician, both of which I hate.”[/color] He leaned back in his chair, Sublime still playing quietly through his headphones, which hung around his neck. He listened to the camera crew as they spoke. [color=teal]”I mean, it [i]is[/i] Monday. I can’t well go out drinking on a Monday, can I? I’ll probably just heat up some corn dogs and play video games tonight.”[/color]

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Declan actually felt pretty good today.

Normally, he was in a “death is preferable to this” mood every morning. Today, however, he felt good. He’d actually gotten some sleep last night, ate breakfast for the first time in a few months. He was properly caffeinated, and genuinely looking forwards to work. He whistled as he walked into work. Then he remembered that he had a meeting. 

[color=teal]”I hate meetings.”[/color] He muttered. Of course, he didn’t want to broadcast it. He wasn’t sure if he could get fired for it, but he wasn’t about to test fate. God knew he was barely skating by. He walked past everyone Nana, straightening up in fear as he did so. He hastily walked into the conference room and took a seat, sighing. Avoiding contact with her would only work for so long. He needed to figure out what to do about that. That was a problem for later, though. For now, he leaned forwards in his chair and mentally steeled himself for the boredom that came with meetings.