Hands…

She stared up at the moon in. He walked up behind her and asked to hold her hand. She looked over and he was beaming bright.

 

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Incomplete

“Every once in awhile I feel like I would like to erase myself from everything and everyone. I am not sad nor had a fight with anyone, I simply feel overdosed by the world. “– Anonymous  06/15/2016 #reflection #lovephrases #life –trans. from Spanish by -vmj

The idea of even starting to imagine how to be without her was the most incredible of jaunts for him. Where would he go? How would he function? It’s something that he has never needed to think about, because like everything else, it’s always worked for him in his favor without any effort at all. This time around, there have been several things that have blocked his thought process from proceeding with life. Like a “writer’s block” but for life. Was she the one to take him to where he needed to be in life? Was this the one individual that would allow him to be himself and feel confident enough in his own skin to achieve all that he could potentially achieve?

This makes a new chapter in her book. She has to regain her old self back, her routine, her things are now hers again. No more sharing or thinking “Will he enjoy this?”. It’s her, full speed ahead. Being selfless is always a simple thing for her. She was raised that way. Share what you got. Should you run out, there will always be another way to find more. This was a simple detachment, if you will. Just finding that she will not have a full backing of support by the one individual is a bit daunting– but it can be done. She did it once before, but she was way broken to even contemplate the steps of getting there. Now, it’s different. Now, she can get to the steps even faster, without looking back or hesitation.

He was conflicted and just not all that his usual self. He was very much in the “survive at all costs” mode in his life. Then this happened. Some sort of shift in his day-to-day. A spark of something that he could not rationalize, forecast or calculate. It was, in some way, refreshing. There was no psycho, there was no neediness, there was no hidden agenda. There was balance. Simple, straight forward balance. This was not a usual thing. This surprised him a great deal. This could not be so. There is bound to be something that will throw this off kilter, something that will make the “other shoe drop” and it will drop like a shit ton of bricks. This is what was in the back of his mind. There needs to be some type of “error” in the process, because this is not supposed to get to the “simple” at the first chance they meet.

She was enjoying this “refreshing” start. There was no need to shell out things to compensate. An independent thinker, witty, fun and most of all not a moocher. A relief to know that there is no need to be analyzing a personal “hidden” agenda with this one. There was a clean “OK” from the “first line” of defense and it was healthy. Ha! Healthy, something not in the view scope for oh so many years prior. But is there seems to be something not all 100% there as of yet. There is something that might pop up when things get comfortable. She needs to have this sit in her back burner, because she would start this train of thought and screw things up really badly. Ending in heartbreak and lots of stress. What can possibly be so harmful that she cannot evaluate within the first couple of moments? There needs to be something there that will unleash come a hard time in this journey.

He feels that in his past he as had the short end of the stick. He feels. That’s a first. Feelings, emotions, all of that makes things messy. It makes things complicated- dare it be said, dramatic even. Some things that he would rather avoid. History has dictated that those are red flags to avoid, detour, just out right not even come in contact with. Should he know any better. Right, ok. He does know better. He know a lot of “better” and would be an intelligent individual by not even stepping foot in that area, if he knew what was good for him. Linger in conversation. Get the intel he needs and bounce. Spend the time and waste the brain power to even consider this to be a good thing? It’s too soon. Keep at arm’s length. “DO NOT ENGAGE”… too late. She has broken the first barrier of defense. Damn!

She is completely and utterly astonished. Is this supposed to be this simple, to start? Nah. It’s just the game. To them, it’s all games– fun, games, freebies until something makes it get real. She is beginning to get the whole “feelings” thing. Oh no! Not that! “STOP THAT!!!!” Don’t even turn in that direction. She brings up the “getaway”. It’s just a weekend, a long one. It’s been a few months, there has been contact for these few months. Let’s test the waters a bit more. Two more seasons to see where this can go. There is no doubt yet. Why is that? There is no backing out now. It’s been asked. It’s out there now. Out there in the universe to have it mull over in the brain of the recipient. No. What?? “How about in a few weeks? Work is a bit much right now.” Don’t freak. The answer to the proposal is -NO- It’s ok. She has hit a wall, and now she knows. This is not going to go the same way that the others have. Strange.

He is too content. No drama, a slight disagreement here and there, but no drama. Seriously? This is not computing like it should be at this juncture. I am not able to find any fault that I am not happy with. Something needs to happen three times in order to establish a pattern. There is absolutely nothing inconsistent. In fact, consistency is nothing but prevalent in this case. He can’t seem to wrap his head around this at all. It’s conflicting. All the testing in the world, and the results have been nothing but favorable. What is this? Not at all what he can reason with in his world. Opened a few windows to his world and they have remained opened. There has not been any need to close them. There is no need to block them, because no one has gone through and needed to climb into them. They are open and they are being looked through. That’s all. Simple and uncomplicated. What?? No errors. This is not something he can understand.

It’s been “snail” speed. It’s been that slow and it has not hurt after so much time. At this point it would be saturating and exhausting even but it is not. It’s so organic. She does not feel any threat, not a speck. She feels the balance that she has yearned for and yet there seems to be something things that still needs to tweak a bit more. As there is no threat, there are moments that can be used to “call out” some bull shit on both parties. That brings the level of communication to a new brink. Not feeling intimidated to be forward with things is something that was never achieved. This is a new horizon all together, and there is a positive response. Progress? Perhaps, but there is something off still. Can’t seem to place her finger on it.

He has endured enough. There are no faults, there is no progress, it’s routine. It’s gotten to where it’s routine. He cannot understand where to go from here. There was a projected time frame and this was not even in the forecast. He cannot seem to accept that it’s good or that it’s bad, but it needs to stop. Maybe it’s saturating. He feels too much. He cares. He never thought it would get to where he cares and he does so, a lot. This is not what he signed up for. This is not where he wants to be. There are great values here, and if he disconnects it will feel like he is guilty to letting it go this far. It will not be comfortable and arguably awkward. Maybe the pace needs to change, or maybe it needs to remain the “status quo”. Damn, this shit makes it complicated and that is something that he does not want nor does he need. Time, maybe some time to smooth things and have the dust settle. Yeah. That’s it.

She hears time and that is not something of an option. There is either going forward or not. There has been too much time, come to think of it. Several seasons worth and in that span of “time” there has been much discovery, adjustment, understanding and most of all learning. Maybe even healing. But more of it and not have this whole situation progress, that is not a fair request. There is not an ounce of fault in this situation and there is no clear errors that have cause pain, discomfort, disdain, envy, jealousy, judgement, fear. Yet, now this is something that needs to be evaluated because this does not exist in the circumstances at hand? Really? What does that all mean then? All that is happening now because he deems it so? There was never really any value in anything then. All that “Time” and the end result is nothing. Can she feel any more of a fool? She can, and mostly terrible because there was so much more invested that she would have hoped for.

He senses fear. Why? He has not ever been that in tune with his emotions like this. This is not fair. Fear, guilt, he has been honest and why does he feel this? It’s God awful. There are tears. This has never happened either. How to define what it is that he has needed all this time? If the honest response comes out, there might be some sort of explosion, some kind of reaction that he is not prepared for. That can’t happen. This all needs to be control, because he will not have this spiral out of control.  Walk away is a clear cut answer… just do it. Despite all that has been weighed on this table. Just walk away…it’s alleviating. There is too much to even sort through.

He will feel himself again and have no need to keep things at arm’s length or in “status quo”. This is not something that feels complete. There he goes again, he is feeling. Perhaps that is what is making this more complicated.

She has been nothing but hurt. She did the right thing. Allowed ample time, space, understanding and no judgement. She has been patient and kind, most of all loving to a fault. Exactly– TO A FAULT! The fault that brings this circumstance to an end, and she will need to disconnect because it was clearly stated, she is wasting time with this. She should be somewhere else, with someone else and not here. Growth is happening and she can handle it. She has been here before. She aches and it’s too stinging, but growth is happening and she has to disconnect and move on. There is not one instance where she will feel incomplete.

-vmj

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Shatter

You liked it,
                      on my knees, looking up, loss of breath

You had it,
                    good, from my breath, sweet and soft

You had a choice,
                                  varied, like the crayons in a crayola box

You inhaled it,
                            from my mouth to yours,  my breath

I tasted it,
                    bitter, thick, in my mouth

I had it,
               long, from your breath, strong and distilled

I had no choice,
unchanged, ritualistic, like sheathe in my heart

I cut it, out,
                       held it, dropped it, to shatter in pieces along with my heart.

18 December 2009-vmj

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In a Changing World

We’re living in a changing world
Where light turns into darkness in minutes
Where people go mad and kill for no reason.
Drastic measures are taken
And then lots of lives are forsaken
For what? A change.

We’re living in a changing world
Where hopes are high and promises made.
Where then those hopes are let down, and promises broken.
The more we try the more difficult it gets
Wars are started yet the cause to fight gets stronger
For what? A change.

We’re living in a changing world
We are striving to succeed
We’re lying just to please
We are living in a changing world.

28 September 1993 -vmj

Note: Written in the aftermath of the Oklahoma Bombing back in 1993. However long ago that was, it seems very relevant even more now as over 20 years have past. 

 

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Circles

“Babe, this is what I want, I think.” He sounded a bit unsure. “What do you mean, you think? Have you not worked all this quarter with your art projects and Thatcher, with the new Macs at the PC lab? I saw that animated sequence with the musical soundtrack that sounds like a video game, you created of the peach. You’re the shit, babe! There is no one in the school that can do what you do, and not to mention your drawings. All the amazing pieces you have on display. Like, comic book style, totally professional, babe! Come to me with that ‘I think’ shit, and I will punch the sense into you!” He snickers and kisses her on the forehead.
“I just needed for you to say that, so that I can see you huff and puff. You look so friggin’ cute when you do that.” He continues snickering, and she makes her little fist with her left hand, but psyches him out with and elbow to his stomach.
“Hey!” he coughs as the wind gets knocked out of him. “Say.. *cough* ‘NO’.. *cough* to violence.”
“Oh I can give you more ‘violence’.” She aims to do the same fake, but he catches her with a hug and gives her a long, deep kiss. If only these moments could last longer. She calms down a bit, and smirks with a grin and then bats her eyes at him in awe while they sit on the floor of the empty classroom.

They met there every day after school to be able to have a private moment together, talk about their day before the crazy activities and of course cop some feels, as most horny teens tend to want to do. She meant the world to him and always had the most incredible hidden hope of all the people he knew. These last two years have been a bit crazy, but they maintain being the ultimate “sweethearts” in high school. They worked out the “together” time like a well oiled machine. She was involved with all sorts of things – choral, musical theater, opera, track, volleyball, yearbook. He was involved with all things sports, but drummed at any free moment he could find. He only reconnected with his love of drawing when she started school in the middle of sophomore year. Last he saw her was her 8th grade graduation ceremony, he was kind of rejoicing that she would be gone, because he – at that time- did not even want to entertain her presence. She was bossy, snobby, a total pain in the ass when it came to homework, and she never shut up about how she was so lucky she was skipped a grade so she can “leave early” and go away for high school. She had to transfer in from her other high school in Connecticut right after the year started in late September, because her mother needed her to be closer. The expenses were a bit too much on the family budget and her grandfather became ill, which took a toll on the family overall.

He was surprised to see her walk into homeroom that day. It was the third week of September and most of all things in academia world was well on it’s way. Guessing that this was such a last minute circumstance, she was going to repeat her sophomore year here. She looked a bit scared but sad and mousy like all new kids at 15yrs old. How in the world was she there? Man, she did not look like she did in her 8th grade graduation outfit. Her hair was long, no more braces, and she had a soft glow about her. Damn! He could not stop staring at her. His hands were kind of sweating. That shit never happened before to him. Literally, he could not grip his pencil right to finish his math assignment and all the answers where smudging away with every time he placed his hands on the graph paper sheet. He kept trying to finish the stupid proof problem for his extra credit in geometry, which is has been doing great at, but he cannot for the life of him remember the answer that he thought of and he is got stuck on stupid.

“Hey Killer, mind giving me that answer for geometry?” and points to Sam’s homework for the extra credit.
“Shit, this is due in like 5 minutes!”
“Dude, do me a solid, c’mon.”
“Lunch, you’re coming to Eda’s with me as my wing-man to get that girl’s number.”
“Are you serious?” He thinks on how lame that is, and almost hopes that he will forget, as he usually does.
“Yeah, yeah, you got it. Now please, answer?” Mickey points to his paper and nose points to Sam’s desk.

He gives him answer and then not a second later, the bell rings. Great! He can go welcome her “officially”. Will she remember him? Does he smell? His breath, ugh, where are those mints? Searches all his pockets in his jeans, his second hand army coat has so many damn pockets, found it! In the tiny inside pocket of his coat on his left side there was a strawberry starburst. A Starburst? That is so lame! Whatever, it will mask the coffee stench. He rushes to get all his shit together, and shoves everything in his backpack, zips it half way, pushes his way through the aisle of desks in the classroom to get to the door as she walks up to leave the room.

“Shelly?” She looks up from her class schedule in shock.
“Yes? Muh… Mickey! Oh my gosh!”
“The heck are you doing here?” Doosh! Why else would she be here, dork??!! She giggles.
“Umm… I go here now.”
“Cool!” Numb nuts! “So are you back? I thought you were in C.T. someplace?”
“Oh, right! Graduation was the last time I saw you! Umm, yeap. I had to come back home, because there are some family issues and being away at school was not something possible. I’m a bit sad, but I guess I’m lucky Mr. Jordan was gracious enough to let me start this late.”
“So, you’re in this homeroom? Or is this a mistake?” They head out to the hallway and walk aimlessly to the end stairwell.
“No mistake. Because of the whole ‘last minute’ thing, I have to go back a year in the ‘matriculated’ status, but I am pretty much taking all Junior level classes and some AP courses in the other half of the year. Homeroom is what it is and it’s fine.” He is simply just staring at her as they walk to the stairwell door and stop.
“No shit! So you’re back! This is cool!  I… I… Umm… so, do ya need any help, umm navigating?”
“Oh, ummm…” She glances at her schedule again. “Pre-Calc/Trig with a Mr./Ms. Rutherford?” She catches him staring, and giggles.
“Yeah, yeah. Umm… woah really?” She nods concurring and cocks her head to the side.
“So, Pre-Calc, Rutherford, umm… next floor up, 5th door on the left.” He quickly draws two interlinked circles and an arrow through them pointing at the room number, flashes a thumbs up to her and gives a wink. He walks away flushed with a red face.

He could not believe how much she has changed. There is no explanation why she is how she is, but he is totally blown away by her. She, the pain in the ass, snob from grammar school. They could not even stand sitting next to each other in the same English class. He would purposefully write super small with a 0.5 point ink pen in black to piss her off, and make her the most aggravated of all kids. He would use a napkin instead of notepad paper and write all sorts of designs on it and cover the whole napkin in interlinked circles with an arrow through every two. Man, he was terrible! He leans back in his desk chair thinking about the events of the day.  He remembers there was a box of photos that he had from his grammar school days, where the heck was it? He gets up from his chair and shuffles over to his closet and steps on some wood block to see if he can find the box on the upper shelf of his closet. Some video game cartridges, dusty cleats, some Lego sets dismantled, some boxer briefs -woah, gross- far back corner of the shelf he spots a small envelope box about to crap out. That’s it!

He has a picture of all of the classes on a Field Day activity where they were all wet and completely covered in mud from a tug of war fight on the field. They happened to be on the same team back then, but she was all pretentious because she was the one responsible for our line up to be able to win. Man, how does he remember that crap? That was the only time that he saw her happy and totally at ease from being who she normally was at school. She had mud all over her face, hair, soiled khaki cargo pants, knees, sneakers. He was nose diving most of that activity, so he looked like a chocolate dipped cone, covered in mud. Most of the kids were one type, the other type or a combination of both types of muddy, and did not have a care in the world. That was the last day he would be in the same vicinity as Shelly. He posed right next to her, and as soon as the photo was taken, he poured a bucket of cold water on the top of her head. Ha! It was perfect timing. Since then, he has never seen her again up until this morning. How crazy, that they meet up like this and end up in the same class, yet once again. Damn, Murphy and his Law. It’s kind of nice though, having someone from your childhood being your life as a young adult- because that is how Mickey saw himself – you kind of don’t need to think too hard on trying to dig into knowing more about the person. It’s like a circle, it comes to it’s completion when you draw it.

Oh how Mickey needed his extra large coffee light and sweet this fine Friday morning. He was struggling to function and to be “Mr. Responsible” after the amazing night last night. He happened to be playing a gig with his band at the Stone Pony, as the opening act. He was so excited with all the hype of this show, because it had been over 8 years since he had played anything. So much energy, so many crazy kids, all the booze, but most of all the most shocking thing ever… Shelly was back in town and she was at the show.  They had locked eyes after his set, and the most glorious smile he had ever seen beamed from her gorgeous face. The front man had thanked everyone for giving them a listening ear and support, and the last bow was taken, Mickey bee-lined over to Shelly in the middle of the floor. He was all sweaty from the set, and all his clothes were damp from the humidity of the place. His T-shirt with the band’s logo on it and his signature -two interlinked circles with an arrow through them- was light grey and jeans.

“Hey girl!” slowly, but casually approaches her.
“Hey Mr. Rock-star! Great set! You guys did a great job!” she reaches out to give him a hug.
“What are you doing in these neck of the woods?” he scoops her in a hug.
“Well, you know. Summer, light schedule at work, means weekends down the shore.” she giggles.
“Ahhh… yes, indeed, I know. Well, this is great that you came out. How did you hear we were going to be here?”
“Silly, you sent me an invite via Myspace. Do you not remember hassling me for like weeks on that thing?”
“Ha! Well, that’s my marketing skills at their best. You can bear witness to the amazing turnout, thanks to my fantastic efforts!” As he stretched out his arms gesturing, she quickly elbowed him in the stomach like she used to back in high school, but this time she had one of those coy smiles that makes him warm and fuzzy all over.
“Hey! *cough* Watch that thing! *cough* You can kill someone like that” He aims to catch his breath while holding his hand to his torso and bending over. “Plus, I just finished my set, sheesh woman!” She giggles very coyly while rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, you will get over it in a second like always.”
“So now, we are ‘Rock-star’-ing seriously. This is great, Mickey! I am so glad for you.”
“It’s something to do, while I work my regular job at the marketing agency. It’s a total drag over there, but at least I have been promoted twice in about 2 years.”
“That’s awesome Mick! Wow promotions? That’s more that what I get at the law firm. If I had my certifications and/or degree I would be the paralegal to the first chair on cases.” she sighs.
“Listen, aside from admiring my magnetizing personality at work, why don’t we take off from here. I’m starving.” he grins.
“Sure, sounds good. Let me, just let my girl know that I’m getting a lift.” she walked away very elegantly, as he remained in place just staring in amazement.

Driving on the south side of town, just doing his thing, Mickey was listening to the best sound system on wheels, anyone can ever ask for. The best thing he has ever purchased, and he has earned the right to blast it fair and square. Nothing can sound so good when you feel the light cool breeze on your face, the sun’s warmth filtering through your windshield and the comfortable feel of your favorite hoodie on your neck. All the traffic in the world can’t mess this up. Listening to some Sublime on the I-5 at 2pm on a Thursday makes the drive not too shabby, considering he’s going to see his main squeeze near San Clemente.  Not too long ago the most amazing opportunity landed on his “lap”, in a sense, and would have given him every possible creative perk known to a producer. He was going to be set, at least to begin his journey as a professional producer, yet as things are and as life should have it, he envisioned being in the “thick of it” here on this side of the world. He couldn’t conceive the idea of having been so close to leaving this wonderful side of the country to be in the middle of somewhere, Oxford Mississippi for work.

He pulls up to a beautiful brick paved driveway, parks the Jeep Wrangler, gets out of the car and shuts the driver’s side door. The chirp of the car alarm startles her as she is sitting out on the deck, taking in the afternoon sun.  

“The one who brings the bacon, is hoooome!” he shouts. “ And I have some news!”
“The one who cooks that bacon, is on the deck!” she shouted in response. She perks up a bit in her chair and checks her hair and lipstick.
“Babe!” he swoops in with a long deep kiss.
“Yummm… Jolly rancher watermelon” she smiles while flavoring her lips. “So what’s the word?”
“Well, first, you look stunning today m’lady.” rolling his hand and lowering himself in a bow.
“Oh no, that means something is changing. You never bow, unless we have another changing factor in the midst.” she grins again.
“Yes, but it’s a fantastic change, beautiful! I was asked to go as a prospective house Producing Engineer for the Log Cabin!” he holds her hands in his and makes his usual quirky smile.
“Woah! That’s… Ah…Mazing, m’love!” she grips his hands hard and shows her warm smile in celebration. “But this means you are leaving here and moving there, right?”
“There is the ‘but’. I mean, there are other chances I am sure, to get to the Manhattan center. Just that this happens to be a double chance to work with a very VIP client to Atlantic Records and be in the project management sector.”

She looks at the view of the mountains in the afternoon, it always takes her to a peaceful place. She looks up at the sky, so blue and clear. As if it had been cleaned with a squeegee. Then all she feels is pain, to her whole body. There was shattered glass everywhere, she was not able to feel anything but pain in her chest, ribs, the IVs that were set on her arms, her jaw was not able to open all the way and it hurt with such a jolt of pain to her brain. They lift her up in the gurney and transport her to the nearest hospital. She has no idea where she was.
“Muh, muh, Mikey.” she breathlessly bellows. Doors close heavily and the vehicle drives away. Inside her wrist, she had just stopped in some little town to get a new tattoo— two interlinked circles with an arrow through them.

-vmj

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A Simple “Good Morning”

It begins with a simple “Good morning”, and a shuffle to the left of the cubicle. It was a long weekend and the easiest way to cover the embarrassing mark of not having slept, is simply disappearing into the office chair in front of her work PC.

“Good morning, Sunshine! Lovely weekend, huh?” He snickers behind his cubicle wall.
“Hmmmm…maybe.”
“Do you remember anything?”
“A bit. But I would like to just not think about all the… madness, that happened. It feels like I can’t keep up with set pace anymore. This ‘aging’ thing is not helping any.”
“Ha ha! Aging has nothing to do with it, missy. There is a level of conditioning that you have been out of the loop with, since you came back on the scene”

She does her regimented start of day at her PC-login, email, email, Variety, CNN, Aristegui Noticias, ABCNews and Twitter. She is so glad the company has allotted the funding for their department to get the office furniture and updates first. Before her regiment included wiping down the whole workstation with a Clorox wipe and Lysol, from prior users. Man, they can be such slobs. She does some light dusting off her screen and then “WHAM”–headache. Like an anvil swung upside the central part of her head making her brain explode.

“Would you happen to have some…”
“Tylenol Extra Strength, in the back pouch of my bag, take 4 with a bottle of Smart water from the little fridge. That big one has not been cleaned in months, and who know what has been growing in that shit-infested-algae-filled-bottom drawer. I can never trust the cleaning crew anymore. At least they take out the garbage and recycling.”

“Lifesaver…” exhaling slowly.

She grabs the small pill bottle, takes 4 out, and heads around the back to the kitchen area to the small fridge. The more she moves, she recalls flashes of her “lovely weekend”. Did she really sing Karaoke in Spanish? Man! But the DJ was very cute, so, cute, so, damn, DELICIOUS! Ok, ok, enough grab the little fridge door and pick up a Smart water. Actually, take 3 of them, girl, dehydration is not very cool at your age. She is feeling a slight tugging at her butt. She passes her hand down her back side only to feel a lump of… OH NO!!

“I did not just do that!!”- she exclaims.

She stops off at the bathroom, runs into a stall and realized she had just tucked in her panties into the back-end of her pantyhose and her soft bohemian-styled skirt was included in that bunch! “SHIT! This is the last time I am gonna do this! He must have been laughing super hard at this crap! What an idiot!”

“Who was laughing?”

Damn, this chick is in here! Shit!

“Oh good morning, miss! This buddy of mine, he sent me a text with a funny meme and then he called me to talk about it on the way in. Some little baby goat with baby horns and two tennis balls at the tips. The quote said ‘Always use protection when you’re horny’.”

“For real?” Her laugh sounds like a high-speed steam train, quite high-pitched and nasally. Quite hurtful to the point that the headache she already had, amplified every “shreee” she did. *sigh*.  She hears a flush and the door to the first stall open. All the while, she is unraveling the bulge sitting on her back side, feeling relieved that this nosey chatty-Cathy is exiting the lady’s room. So glad she did not get a glimpse of her embarrassing moment.

“Take care! I’m outta here, it’s been a long monday. Be careful tonight!”
“Byeee! Will do. Thank you!”

Whew! Out! Yay! Panties unraveled and skirt down. Yes! Now, to stuff those panties in my pocket and walk the heck outta here so my headache can settle and my dehydration can gain hydration again. She really can’t keep up the pace. Oh, but Saturday night at the Salsa mixer, man! She cannot believe how great she felt when she was dancing. Alone, then with that other fella that looked like a Hispanic Adonis the size of a Cuban palm tree, then in that round-robin game swing that they did. Some “Cuba Libres” and that was enough to loosen the joints for the last round, that won her a fantastic package to take the Salsa cruise with Tito Nieves! Whaaaat!?? She all of a sudden springs a Kool-Aid grin as she plops back into her office chair.

“Did the little fridge swallow you up, girl?”
“Ugh, no. I had a slight ‘Walk-of-shame’ moment. Running out today from his place, I had sort of tucked a certain “intimate” article of clothing in the wrong side of my skirt along with my skirt. Just imagine walking out of the bathroom with toilet paper coming out of your skirt, but worse.”
“Oh my, my, my, my, girl! That beats the ‘walk-of-shame’ by a mile!” She snickers, then laughs out loud with a deep belly laugh. Whoopi Goldberg-esk even.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. I am just glad there was no video camera around to document the event.”

Her mind goes back to the winning move of the round-robin and the amazing Adonis. She can’t remember his name, and she is trying her darndest, as she types through her emails to catch up on the latest “news” that her co-workers have left her to do.  It’s always a laundry list: follow-up with this, call them over at this office, reprint the other document, update the calendar with this event, get rid of the other event, attach the group in your response, make sure you respond via email, pdf all the binders, scan all the binders, FedEx them with the account numbers, and so on and so forth. It’s like a corporate version of “Cinderella”, literally. What saves her brain from going insane is her amazing team. Yes, she has a team and sure enough, she is NOT the leader of this team. Man, if she were, it would be chaos, but then again, a corner office would not be so bad, and having an assistant kind of makes it feel a little easier. FOCUS! Stopping off to daydream or in this case, dream, in general is not always a “productive” move considering you have your “laundry list” to get to, missy. Ha! Missy, who am I kidding, there is not enough energy in this world to have me be called Missy, with this kind of headache and bags of death under her eyes, as she glances at her reflection via her iPhone. Why is she still here? Shouldn’t she look for another position somewhere else, with normal hours, not vampire ones? What would happen if she gave her notice?

“Are you awake over there?”
“Yes, I am. Why?”
“Well… you did come in ‘hurtin’ and all that jazz, and you are terribly quiet.”
“Oh.. well, thanks to you, I am better with my ‘hurtin’ body, and the other, I am in deep concentration. You know, doing what I am ‘requested’ to do.” she said demurely.

She has been there for about an hour into her shift, and she has not even gotten to put her music on. There is a simplicity about working in an environment, with music. It can be any music. Rock, pop, metal, funk, decades, latin, classical, any and all just always helps get through the day. Today, it is going to be some Mozart on guitar. Yes, that seems to fit the mood. She pops on her streaming app on her PC, and raises the volume up to begin listening to some, “Romanza” from “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik”. As she attacks the laundry list, from her peripheral vision, she sees the glow of her smart phone. Who is this? She doesn’t recognize the number.


Bella, ya left, n now im alone here. 😦

She snickers a bit, and thinks hard on what to respond. Did she tell him that she works 3rd Shift? Did she say anything at all?? Oh my gosh, she was so loopy. She giggles a bit.

“What’s so funny, Sleeping Beauty?”
“Nothing, just thinking on the events of the weekend.”
“He texted you, didn’t he? And you pulled a ‘sleep-n-slip’ because you didn’t remember if you said anything or said everything to him, right?”
“Dang, girl! You are too good at knowing me”
“After about 10 years, girl, you and I should be considered to be ‘Common Law’ partners!”

They both laugh hard, her with her Whoopi laugh, she with her giggle resembling Betty Rubble.

“But seriously, why do you get yourself into these situations? I mean, I can understand that you are all grown up and are in the “adulting” phase of your life. Not to mention the whole lotta drama that you endured over the years with that crazy ex of yours. But you need to set a pace for yourself. All this sprinting is gonna get you caught up in some crazy messes, girl! Mm… mm…hmmm!” She laughs once again.

“I’m glad that I can be your source of entertainment tonight.”
“Girl, nothing beats living vicariously, specially through you! But I am glad that Bernie and I can be here, should you need us.”
“And it’s very much appreciated, you have no idea just how much, mamacita.”

A silent moment lasts a about a half hour, and like clockwork, phones begin to ring promptly at 5:30am.  

“Good morning, Client Care, this is Chloe, how can I help you?”.

-vmj

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