Circle of Joy and Sorrow

Everything that exists is in a manner the seed of that which will be. -Marcus Aurelius

Sunday, June 25, 2006

28 Days Later....

Now I never told you what I do for a living. And no, it's not being a zombie extra. Although you'd be close. I work for Homeland Insecurity. Last March I got mowed down by a pile of suitcases coming out of an x-ray machine and ended up out of work. So I hobbled back after I got served with an eviction notice because the DOL can find billions and billions of reasons not to pay people. First day back was lovely. Starting with a "random computer selection" to get a piss test for drugs and alcohol. Right after lunch. Then, ten minutes to the end of my shift, a little old lady falls on me. Which pretty much means I'll spend the rest of my summer in a sling instead of a bikini.

And the fun continues dear reader... yesterday my laptop passed away. My constant companion of nine years and repository of my campaign stickers has accessed the internet for the last time. My assembly-required dresser decides to come apart at the seams. And then I dropped a jar of honey on my kitchen floor. I took the gooey mass of paper towels and Giant shopping bags down to the dumpster and it started to rain. Hard. Halfway back the the apartment I decided to stop and surrender to these strange laws of nature. Might as well get a good soaking in while I was available.

The rain brought out a few other denizens of my apartment complex who I rarely see, going to work at the dark side of dawn and coming in long past any descent hour. People came out of their one or two bedroom hovels in our low wage complex and gathered on stoops to look at me funny. Great. The only impression I've made on anyone in a year. I go back inside, sleep and get up the next morning. And there's a love poem on my palm tree doormat from a secret admirer. Squee!!

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At 8:29 PM, Anonymous B said...

Yay for anonymous love poetry! Unexpected positive interactions sometimes make up for a whole host of negative experiences.

Now the real fun starts... Who is it from? When will he reveal himself? Or if you can track him down, will you approach him?
I hope it's all a positive experience and that you have fun with this, because really - how often does *anyone* get anonymous love poetry?!?

At 5:23 PM, Blogger olive said...

So I did eventually figure out who he is and where he lives. He's across from me on the third level, and possibly 5 to 7 years older than me, and no sparks. Sigh. At least I didn't prematurely attempt love poetry back and now find myself in an ackward position. Besides, I don't think he was impressed with the quick glance of my undecorated apartment. I need to spend some money on something besides books. Bookstacks aren't very chic.

At 4:56 PM, Blogger olive said...

Don’t violate it with language-
The sky holds a breath, and then releases
The rumble of a sigh into the afternoon,
And then it calls you, and me,
The spider down its web,
The ripples out of water,
And I fall silent to hear its whisper,
And you stand still to feel its embrace.

Quiet. No more of tears, or sweat, or blood-
Hear, smell and feel now, during the early summer


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