Queso fluorescent lights

Clinic, fluorescent lights buzzin’ Three girls trapped in government functions Shared one office, rolling our eyes Watching movies while the hallway dies Sara clutching her stomach again“Gluten got me,” yeah, here we go then Lactose hates me, dairy’s a crime Still ordered queso every damn time Valerie typing novels in Teams Five page essays ‘bout absolutely nothing“Dear diary…” popping up all day Probably HR evidence if leaked one day pre-chorus“What’s for lunch?”“I dunno, too lazy” Uber Eats for ten bucks To deliver thirty feet, maybe People outside talking way too loud We’d just stare like an angry crowd Please stop talking, please go home We’re trying to rot in peace alone I miss the mean girl group chats The Teams messages we can’t take back PMSing together in our tiny room Laughing while the copier sealed our doom COVID hit and we all almost died Melissa brought the plague inside But we still love her, that’s the twist Trauma bonding on a government list Val died twice, Sara couldn’t breathe My heart skipped beats like it wanted leave“I can’t taste anything” texts at night Checking if we’re all still alive alright Those were the good days somehow Dear diary, I miss us now Now we’re scattered in different halls No shared office, no movie marathons Just Teams bubbles lighting the screen Digital ghosts of the office queens Val sends another giant paragraph Sara reacts with a dying laugh I send memes instead of work Government laptops absolutely cursed Tiny violins and stomach meds Existential dread before lunch spreads Someone says “teamwork,” we mute the call Then debate chicken strips for an hour and all Some people peak in college bars We peaked hiding from patients in cubicle wars Three exhausted women held together By caffeine, gossip, and bad weather And every “you alive?” text chain Felt weirdly warm inside the pain Cause surviving together counts somehow Even if we’re dysfunctional now I miss the mean girl group chats The office cave and the thermostat fights The dear diary Teams confessions And avoiding all human interactions Sara’s stomach, my gluten curse Valerie’s essays just getting worse Ten dollar fries to avoid the walk And pretending to work while we nonstop talked If those chats ever leaked one day We’d all get fired immediately But honestly? Worth every line.