This morning my desk is such a mess I put on some music from the 1980s and danced while I got vicious tearing up little Post-It notes with cryptic messages and names of people I should probably know who they are. I'm done with them. (The notes. Not the people.)
Nothing's wrong, I just can't hear my own voice any more.
I made coffee with a spoon I thought might be dirty OK FINE I knew for sure it was dirty I used it yesterday.
Mercury is in retrograde and the people OH MY GOD the people are crazy. I didn't used to believe in this stuff until I worked in retail for 20 years and now I can tell you HELL YES I don't know why or how but people change. You can Google that if you don't believe me. Or just continue to don't believe me if you want. We can still hang out.
But a woman brought her kid into my store and let her play with the toys on the windowsill for TWO HOURS.
A man refused to pay his bill and then he sent me an email saying he thought I was pretty rude about that.
So they're gone now and I stop and I listen and I think, where am I? Not physically; I can point myself out on a map thank heavens. But the part that makes me ME, the girl who used to have interesting thoughts and a few friends, whose day wasn't taken up with a colour-coded to-do list arranged in priority sequence.
I have voicemail now, the light flashes and it's very distracting. Who can think when there's a red flashing light on her desk? And isn't every single item on this to-do list actually a red flashing light?
And now I hear a voice. It's quiet, and it comes from the warm place just behind my ear.
The only way out is through, that's what it says. So I sigh, and reach for the phone.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Wishes
I need to see something grow. Something green and honest and healthy. Something unique and precious.
On my way to work I drive past a business park. With the leaves all gone and roads stained with salt, what a sore it is on the landscape. A festering infection of commerce and materialism. Big box stores, chain restaurants, traffic lights: a scourge that feeds on need and greed. And the cars go. Stop. Go.
There on the crest of the hill, a little brick office building has been minding its own business for twenty years. Suddenly, a monstrosity of sheet metal and plexi-glass has sprung up right next to it, close enough to touch. Close enough to block out the light. It's square and ugly in a What The Hell Is That kind of way. It's a pustule on the bony shoulder of the city. It even has the audacity to be orange. The sign says Metro Self Storage.
I wouldn't store my Self there.
I'd prefer an Adirondack chair in my back yard. Or, better yet, on the shore. As long as my kids can play nearby, and I can listen to their voices, close my eyes in the sunshine and just be grateful for a little while.
On my way to work I drive past a business park. With the leaves all gone and roads stained with salt, what a sore it is on the landscape. A festering infection of commerce and materialism. Big box stores, chain restaurants, traffic lights: a scourge that feeds on need and greed. And the cars go. Stop. Go.
There on the crest of the hill, a little brick office building has been minding its own business for twenty years. Suddenly, a monstrosity of sheet metal and plexi-glass has sprung up right next to it, close enough to touch. Close enough to block out the light. It's square and ugly in a What The Hell Is That kind of way. It's a pustule on the bony shoulder of the city. It even has the audacity to be orange. The sign says Metro Self Storage.
I wouldn't store my Self there.
I'd prefer an Adirondack chair in my back yard. Or, better yet, on the shore. As long as my kids can play nearby, and I can listen to their voices, close my eyes in the sunshine and just be grateful for a little while.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Just For me.
Now I know for certain 'cause I've been around,
That the sun shines every day even though you might not get to see
No matter who, no matter what, no matter weather permitting,
The miracle is that sometimes it can burn just for you
...or just me
Oh this one's burning just for me
yeah, yeah, yeah, me
Some things, some things are just for me.
That the sun shines every day even though you might not get to see
No matter who, no matter what, no matter weather permitting,
The miracle is that sometimes it can burn just for you
...or just me
Oh this one's burning just for me
yeah, yeah, yeah, me
Some things, some things are just for me.
~ Blues Traveler, Just for Me
The past few days it's been 27 degrees (Celsius) - which is 86 Fahrenheit - in my neighbourhood. It was 26.5 inside, because we're situated such that the sun shines on the front of the house all through the afternoon. I can't tell you how nice it was to sit on my sofa while the sun went down, with a warm breeze coming in the window. I can't tell you how much I needed that.
It's been busy, as usual, and a week ago I was feeling pretty melancholy. I prefer to be upbeat, energetic and happy. (You say "Doesn't everybody?" but I've met many folks who seem quite content being sad and sullen. Like Eeyore, for instance. I know lots of people just like that.) Anyway, I figured it's just been a long winter, and I needed some vitamin D and fresh air.
When the sun came out and the world warmed up it felt like an answer to a prayer. It won't last; it's already cooler today and the whitecaps are moving from the north. But the sun is still shining today, and I hope you're getting some of this great weather too. I have lots to accomplish today and I feel - for the first time in a while - like I can totally handle it.
have a great day!
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