I love my desk. It's exactly the way I want it. Stuff jumbled all over the place. Books of fiction mingled with nonfiction mingled with books I've written. A huge pile of papers that promises to fall over but somehow doesn't. A clock in the shape of a jesters cap. A calander from Avon. My trusty pocket dictionary that has a worn cover and pristine pages because I'm too lazy to use it. It is, in effect, a mess.
If I had a staff, they'd make me clean it up.
I'm not shaving today. I've got a meeting but it's with a team member, not an outsider, so it's ok to be a little shoddy today. I get tired of shaving. My face needs a rest. Besides it makes it feel like a holiday, even when it isn't. So when I get out of the shower, I'm done. Ready to face the world with stubble, my little bit of defiance.
If I had a staff, they'd shave me.
It's been too hot to wear my housecoat so I'm sitting here writing this in my favourite shirt, a huge old thing with a stain in the front, a rip in the back and a breastpocket almost ripped off. It's a cool shirt. I've had it for years, if it could talk, I'd have to pay it to shut up. It was, once, a nice kind of green, but now it's the colour of bread mold. Great shirt.
If I had a staff, they'd throw it out.
A group of us are going to the movies after work today. It's a great way to keep cool, and besides, I like the movies. Part of the movie experience is a bucket of popcorn covered in buttery tasting edible oil product. Yeah, I've read the reports about how a bucket of popcorn has enough calories to feed a third world country for two months, but I don't care. Movies, popcorn. Popcorn, movies.
If I had a staff, they'd make me go on a diet.
We don't have much as an adult. When I was a kid I thought adulthood was going to be busting full of freedom. It's not. It's work. It's paying bills. It's worrying about having money to pay bills. It's wanting what you can't have. It's hurting others by accident and sometimes being hurt on purpose. It's tough. It's nice to have wee bits of freedom. Things that are quirks to others but incredibly necessary to the soul. Things that make me different from everyone else. Things that let me know that in my little corner of the world, there's room for me.
If I had a staff, I'd hope they'd get that.