Okay, this is stupid, I know. It's not a big deal, really. But it’s been bugging me for, what, three days now? Sitting here at Gate B17, 1:47 AM, headphones on with nothing playing, just trying to look unapproachable. It’s effective. No one wants to talk to a tired old lady with a carry-on that looks like it’s seen better days. Just got back from that corporate retreat. Three days in some fancy resort, all about "synergy" and "leveraging assets." I swear I heard the word "pivot" 75 times. My head is still swimming with it. My brain feels like scrambled eggs. I'm just an office manager, basically freelance, so these things are a big deal. Show up, smile, pretend to be invested. Try to snag another gig from someone. So, the last night. The big fancy dinner. Everyone’s dressed up. I'm wearing the same black pantsuit I wear to every single one of these things. It's clean, it fits, it doesn't stand out. And it gets the job done. I was tired. Like, bone-deep tired. Thinking about the flight back, the stack of invoices I need to chase down, the proposal I have to write by Friday or I don't eat next week. The usual. Someone brought a really nice bottle of wine to our table. A cabernet. Everyone was taking sips, being polite. Me, I barely drink. Too expensive, too much of a headache the next day. But it was there, it was free. And it was good. Really good. My glass was empty pretty fast. And then someone poured me another. And another. It wasn't even malicious. Just... the atmosphere. Everyone was loosening up. Laughing louder than usual. The CEO was telling stories about his golf game. One of the marketing guys was doing impressions. I just sat there, nodding, smiling, trying to look like part of the group. But inside, I was already thinking about how early I had to be up for the shuttle to the airport. At some point, probably around 10:30 PM, they announced the raffle. They always do a raffle. Gift baskets, free weekend stays, stuff like that. And I never win anything. Never. My luck runs pretty consistently negative when it comes to draws. But they called my number. My number! Like, really called it. For the grand prize. It was a weekend getaway for two. At a luxury spa. All expenses paid. Manicure, pedicure, massage, fancy dinners. The whole nine yards. A real, honest-to-god, money-can't-buy-this kind of prize. My heart actually skipped a beat. I stood up, walked to the front, feeling all eyes on me. Took the certificate. Shook the CEO's hand. Said "thank you, this is amazing." And it really was. But here's the thing. And this is the stupid part. This is the part that’s been gnawing at me. As I was walking back to my table, the woman from HR, Brenda, she leaned in. "Who are you taking?" she whispered, smiling. And I just... panicked. I don't HAVE anyone to take. My husband died five years ago. My kids live three states away and have their own lives. My friends are all busy with their own families, their own retirements, their own problems. And frankly, I just don't want to explain it to Brenda, or anyone else. Not there, not then. So I lied. I heard myself say, "Oh, my sister. She'll love this." My sister. Who lives in Arizona. Who I haven't seen in two years, not since Mom's birthday. And I don’t even know if she still likes spa treatments. It just… came out. And now I have this certificate. This beautiful, amazing certificate. For a two-person weekend getaway. And I can't use it. Not for two people, anyway. I could probably go alone, but that feels... sad, somehow. Like a consolation prize. And I can't tell Brenda I lied. Or anyone else. Because then they'll ask why. And then I'll have to explain. Explain everything. The whole thing about being alone, the gig work, the pretense of it all. It’s just easier to pretend. So now I’m sitting here, 1:52 AM, watching the cleaning crew push their carts past my gate, looking at this certificate tucked into my bag. It’s a good prize. A really good prize. It would be a nice break from the constant grind. But it feels… heavy. Like I stole it, somehow. Even though I won fair and square. Anyone else ever do something like that? Just a stupid, little lie that spirals into something bigger than it has any right to be? Am I the only one who feels this weird, quiet guilt over something so small? It’s just a spa weekend. It’s just a lie. But it feels like a really big deal right now.