The whole Movie Monday fiasco had lead to an overload in paperwork, faxes, and voicemails to return.  Pam was in the middle of a sizeable heap when Michael approached her desk with urgency.

"Pamster, I need you to stop whatever it is you're doing, because I've got a very important task for you to complete."

Pam sighs heavily, and prepares herself for the worst.  "What is it, Michael?"

Michael spoke between gasping breaths, as if he had run from the parking lot to her desk.  "I need you to go on WebMD, or Wikipedia or wherever you look up words."

"You mean a dictionary?"  She asks, eyeing the camera suspiciously.

Michael mumbles, collecting his thoughts.  "Yeah, whatever you wanna call it.  I need you to find out what this is."  In his hands, he holds a small pebble.

"That's a rock, Michael."   She states plainly, and frankly getting annoyed with Michael right now.

"I know it's a rock, Pam.  God!  I want to blog about it.  I was walking back from my car and found it in my shoe.  People on the web would love to hear about this story and so I'm going to blog about it.  And any good professional writer knows that they need to have the facts.  The facts of life.  So just Google it and find out what you call a rock in a shoe.  Pronto, Pamo...get on that because I'm busy, busy,busy.  Like a bee. Queen Bee, no." Michael shakes his head "King Bee..." Michael quietly turns away and starts to go to his office.

She looks over at Jim, sitting at his desk, who appears to be oblivious to everything else in the office besides the scrap piece of paper that he seems to be digging his pen into.  She remembers one year ago: the voice mail, spending her day avoiding Michael's contact, trying to figure out what that term for a rock in your shoe was and never actually finding out.  That day every time she looked up, she hoped Michael wouldn't be there and that she'd catch Jim's familiar gaze, sharing a private joke only through their eye contact.

Now, he can't even look at her.

She snaps out of the memory, her blood boiling and lashes out a year's worth of frustration at Michael. "Michael, no.  I'm buried in work right now, and you need to just... do it yourself."

Michael has a look of shock on his face.  "Sheesh, Pam.  Who crapped in your cornflakes?"

Her eyes never leave Jim's back.  Even though Michael's question was rhetorical, she speaks loud enough for him to hear.  "No one, I mean nothing's wrong.  It's just... a bad memory."

She gets up, mumbles a pathetic excuse, and promptly leaves the reception area.

Jim watches as she leaves, then waits five minutes to follow her.

***

"What's going on, Pam?"  He says, taking a seat next to her in the stairway.  She is sitting comfortably with her back pressed against the wall.

"I don't know."  She says, taking a deep breath. "Between my thin-walled apartment, and being totally backed up with work, I just can't seem to catch a break." Her voice says the words but her body tells another story. 

"My neighbors on the left fight every other night, and the neighbor on the right with the trumpet..."  She says, chuckling through the terror she's feeling inside.

"I mean with you and me."  He interrupts, sick of hiding behind things.

She looks down, and plays with the hem of her button up shirt.  "Things have just been weird between us, and I didn't really... realize it until now."

He looks at her with sympathetic eyes.  "Did you think things weren't going to be weird between us?  That I could just forget everything else that happened?"

"I don't know what I expected."  She says defensively.  "I just never really thought about it at all."

"You shot me down, Pam.  Do you know how long it took me to get over that?"  He speaks softly, the wounds still open.  "I'm still not over it.  But I'm with Karen now.  And things are good."  He says, almost like he's trying to convince himself.

"Well, I'm sorry for what I did to you."  She apologizes, finally looking into his eyes.  "And I guess what I'm trying to say is that..."  She looks at him, remaining locked in his stare.  "I don't want to be just a bad memory."

He sucks in one deep breath, and lets her last sentence sink in.  He says, matter of factly, "I have a girlfriend."

She nods slowly and replies honestly, "I know."  She stands up, straightening out her skirt.  "I better get back to work."

He watches her walking away, all these thoughts rushing through his mind.  Was he really happy with Karen?  Could he forgive Pam just like that, at the drop of a hat, after one five-minute talk and a potentially misguiding metaphor? 

This was going to break someone's heart.

***

Kelly was on her way to Pam's desk to rant about how wrong her date with Ryan had went, when she noticed something shiny sitting on Creed's desk.

She waited for Creed to take his headphones off before confronting him.

"Creed, is that my DVD?"  She says, squeaking with anger.

"Slow your roll, momma.  What's a DVD?  Is that something you can catch on the El train?"  He spoke like he had all the time in the world.  Kelly just looked confused, and just snatched the DVD from him.  Once she confirmed that it was her disc, she strutted back to her desk.

***

"Thanks to the Indian chick Callie, I will not be sleeping in a warm bed, my belly full of bread and split pea soup."  Creed says, his voice full of sadness.  "It'll just be me in my car with hopefully some back alley scraps."

***

Kevin and Meredith had gathered at the fax machine, talking about forms, when Pam entered the room.

"Oh hey Pam."  Kevin utters.  "You know, I still think you should do the whole dance..."

"No."  Pam reiterates, and Kevin looks slightly depressed.

"Good for you, Pam.  Some creep in college made me do drunken strip teases, and look where I ended up.  A divorced mother working in a paper supply company."  Meredith says, hoping to part some wisdom.

"I'll keep that in mind."  Pam gives Meredith a smile, eyes the camera suspiciously, and sits down at her computer and returns to her game of solitaire.

***

"I don't know that anything is going on with Jim and Pam right now.  She seems kind of whiny, actually."  Karen says, annoyed that the camera crew has been so determined to find something going wrong in her relationship.  "Jim and I are happy.  Totally happy.  Why wouldn't we be happy?"  She speaks fast, and kind of paranoid.  "Despite the fact that we haven't seen each other much in the last few days outside of work.  And I think he's avoiding my calls.  So.... yeah.  Everything's great."

***

"What am I going to do?"  Jim repeats the question. "About what?  I'm with Karen now."  He sounds unsure of himself.  The cameraman pushes the subject a little further.  "She said that?"

***

"I don't want to break up Jim and Karen.  If they're really happy, then that's great."  Pam says, diplomatically.  "I mean, if Jim showed up next week, saying he's totally over her..."  She shakes her head, letting go of the silly notion.  "No.  I just want Jim to be happy.  If that means we can only be friends, then that's great.  I just miss him, that's all."

***

"Seriously..."  Michael says, frustratingly typing on his computer.  "How hard is it to find one simple phrase for something in your shoe? I mean, what else is Wikipedia for?   They have pages on the war in Iraq, on famous presidents and all that boring hooplah.  Why not one page on slang or something?  Online encyclopedia."  He scoffs.  "But seriously.  Do you guys know what the word for having a rock in your shoe is?"