Last Post From This IP Address

It's a crescendo in 3/4 time, the last day of work; the bittersweet tinge of youthful Holiday anticipation. The idea that after you rest tonight, you will never worry about Monday morning, about returning to the same windowless cube to wear out your days and Potential.

A coworker calls and tells me hes had a great date. He tells me about the enrollment into the diversion program. Tells me about how hes going to go back to school and suddenly I’m not worried about him anymore.

As I set up the cube for my replacement, I feel an air of bittersweet justice to the whole affair. I've been relegated to the position of doing other people's dirty work for so long now.

Not that I’m against any manual labor, but in propelling most of my work energy into the future, I’ve let my present work self suffer.

What's been lost is the wave of independence that I now feel. The air of righteous Indignation as I waltz passed co workers, apparently unfazed by this red letter day.

We spoke of lost potential; the way work, especially in the office allows one the opportunity to view the potential of certain workers sapped live from moment to moment fromm the coffee-percolated mornings carrying on through the silent waiting room lunches and sloping downwards through the confectioned afternoons into the faint buzz at the end of our days, looking back on a life spent moving objects backwards and forwards.

I know what the critic inside would say:

"The idea that you are not experiencing this alone is missing in your work. The way you insulate everything is worrisome. It’s as if the chronic narcissism you suffer from inhibits all of your work. We never get the sense of a shared experience throughout any of your ficiton."