I am having the crankiest time at work this week. Sometimes other people’s poems are the best way to describe how I feel when my own words are not forthcoming.
Did you ever feel like you are somewhere and stuff is happening all around you, but you are not really there and the whole thing is just surreal? That’s where I am right now. I need a change of scenery ASAP.
It is beautiful outside – a lovely, clear, sunny, Spring afternoon – and K and I took a short walk at lunch. I wish I could have just kept walking on home – there I would sit on the balcony in quiet, sitting among at the blooming trees, getting a good chunk of knitting done. M the cat sunning herself, me enjoying the breezes.
However, here I am, back inside, waiting to proofread a 100 page grant proposal that won’t be given to me until 4 PM, meanwhile editing some newsletters and getting ready for a conference call at 3. I’ll be burning the midnight oil again . . . oh, joy and rapture!
I hope my mood shifts soon . . . I’m sure this is such an uplifting read today.
The Big Bad Wolf Is Real
By Rane Arroyo
We don't leave our terrible jobs
as the same humans that showed up
with bag lunches and optimism because
of a good night's sleep. Something's
been milked from us, something that time
sells to abstract powers. No wonder
that happy hour is three hours long,
that rush to be useless. At least our sins
are ours, although profiteers have plans.
They Had Torn Off My Face at the Office
By Ted Kooser
They had torn off my face at the office.
The night that I finally noticed
that it was not growing back, I decided
to slit my wrists. Nothing ran out;
I was empty. Both of my hands fell off
shortly thereafter. Now at my job
they allow me to type with the stumps.
It pleases them to have helped me,
and I gain in speed and confidence.
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