By Kathy Long: Cynical Idealist, Global Citizen @longone
Do the unintentional yet unexpected thing - I say. It will throw them off. You could get away. A realization holds me back from anger. I’m about to lash out, and I realize that it’s not me, it’s them. My interpretation is off-key. I let them be the masters of interpretation. And this infuriates me. Gaia stepped from the shadows and walked away .the end. - except rather not. Being hemmed in, and no delicate way to exit. In the office, in her cubicle or on her couch, she didn’t know what she was breaking from and dramatically walking towards. No danger but things got stranger.
He interrupted the reverie and said, what have you got to complain about. Do you know what people actually go through. Rhetoricality intact. He said no to question marks. Her silence on the matter made him think she agreed. He insists on thoughts about the spreadsheet - and why do we need all these doggamn spreadsheets anyway? Are we doing scientific research, or refining data points for statistical studies on the evolution of life? No, you thumper, this is just mindless drudgery so the boss can throw some numbers on the table to support whatever cockamamy plans he’s trying to push through. New label, same wine. Why the duck are you being aggressive with me - no irony, rhetoric wins. I already wrote the brief. He lost it - I told you to get this right!
She would have none of it, all this standing over her shoulder manliness. So, she pushed print. As in .the end., this day, too, would be forgotten, and we’d all just keep plugging along. After she handed him the sheet - and why exactly could she not just send it in the chat? She knows, he wants to perpetuate the myth that if he told someone to do it, it’s as good or better than doing it himself. Doesn’t even matter how those figures and prosaic statements got on the page. Management training.
She consoled herself that a trip to the restroom was nigh, where she could wash his dribble from the back of her neck. She was flummoxed by interpersonal work relationships, and idealized suggestions for improvement appeared on her YouTube suggestions. People who didn’t have live with monstrous personalities for hours and hours of their day told her how to modify her behavior and take a chill pill. Sigh. If only following instructions were enough, and internalizing the social structures were enough.
Task done, bad energy drone sucked back to the nebula, she decided to tenderly toe her way towards the room of rest. Anyone looking? The elevator doors opened as she approached the landing, and she was in. She could ride the rails for a couple moments, no trackers … oh, yes, they’re looking. Who cares, justifications came forth - there must be reasons & excuses to go up or to go down. And up she went, colleagues and Chimera stepping on and off.
When she reached the top floor, a familiar face waited for her to disembark, but she stood still and pushed the button for the lobby. Well, get on brother, don’t get annoyed just because you found me here. In fact, I was here first, so you’re lucky I even drove this machine for your use. And that’s right, turn yourself around so I don’t have to look at your mug. If I had that fancy job, I would make sure I wasn’t wearing floods. I’d pay extra for two inches of pant to hit the top of my shoe. Get out, get out, get out. And you better not look back at me, when you step off. I’ve had enough of you for one day. Going down? Don’t you listen to dings, ding dong? Everyone off, I’m taking this thing for a ride. No more - why carry this human luggage? Lobby, please. I need this, it will help, I swear. Doors open, all off.
A searing light burst in her eyes. Recharge the batteries, because I’m coming for you. She felt herself being sucked back into the moving box, full of mindful workers. So pleasant, happy in the kind embrace of their work-life balance. Hold back the laughter.