Am I? Ok, spose maybe it's true. Sometimes I dream to be just about anywhere other than here... Staring at this GD 17" monitor. YOU EVER DO THAT? I wake up and peek outside, see the other "common man/common van" houses for which there is little greenery 'tweengst.. and I wonder whatinthehell it would be like to wakeup in Key West... Or Hana, Maui...
I go to work... I wind my way thru the cubicle maze, find mine - login.. get coffee.. ask Kendra "so... do you just fix your hair every other day?"... and stare at the paperwork needing attention.. same GD stuff, daily ('ceptin on the days Kendra does fix her hair up.)
My brain asks "whatinthehell are you doing here?" and I have no other answers other than, ahm, well - I've only been here five years, I won't get full matching 401K until I've been here seven... the mortgage is due in 9 days.. and I'd like to be able to stop at the Piggly Wiggly tonight and purchase - versus top coat/five-finger discount.
So... stuck. Here. The brain wants to go. The body, whilst aging, says "oh allright, let's go." But I spin my wheels - and another day of pressure from my butt makes the chair where I sit daily that much more comfortable - and that much more difficult to bid adeu.
I dream to be Martin Luther King for one day. I'd love to follow Abraham Lincoln to twelve cities and hear him speak. I'd love to wakeup as Donald Trump and logon to my bank balance. I'd love to wakeup as Davis Guggenheim and peek across to the other side of the bed (ah ah ahh, ur gonna have to look that one up on your own!)
I think about the trek to Florida... oh yeah, I'll go across the Smokies.. always wanted to do that... then I see my 207,438 mile '93 Ford Taurus in the driveway.
I KNOW! I'll sell the house - check into how much Uncle Sam can take if I don't re-invest soon... and I'm GONE! (Then, I remember the inground pool out back that ain't hada liner since 1999, see the $125 bedroom doors that have nifty knuckle-prints from one dude's anger... Remember that the Yorkie got inside and outside confused.. and my 1400 square feet needs new carpet throughout... I remember never being able to find that Beagle I really really liked after he fell thru the humongous hole in the withered back deck... ) Maybe next year.
So I go to work. "GET OFF MY ASS YOU SOB! I KNOW THE SPEED LIMIT IS 65... I'VE GOT IT FLOORED! I debate Applebees or 54th Street for lunch - and end up at the Wendy's dollar menu - 'cause I had $15 before I left for work - but Maynard needed $10. I finally finish ALL paperwork that was new today on my desk... and around 4:50pm, the new batch is there for tomorrow. Anyone gotta match?
I PROMISE I'll get outta this mess by the time I'm 50. Oh shit, just looked at driver's license.. I'm 54.
Sure.. there are probably better places to live... more scenic.. my luck, I'd be in Florida for a year and develop skin cancer... or, 'checkenginelight' would finally keel 25 miles outsidea Chattanooga and in a month or so I'd probably be a bonified resident of "you might be a redneck if", TN.
I guess laughs here are like laughs anywhere. I guess to love here would be like loving anywhere. I guess sex here would be like sex anywhere.. ('ceptin maybe in Denver.. u think they get worn out quicker from that thin air?)... I guess there are scenic places here... Hell, Tryst Falls is still a fav' and the falls dried up to a drip almost 12 years ago.
I assume fun can be had here just as it could in Key West. (Hell, seen today in news KC's first gay sport's bar just opened.. reckon if I really wanted Key West atmosphere.. could just throw on onea them tropical shirts and go there to watch Chickenhawks get thumped.)
Ok... so I'll make the best of it here. I do enjoy life. (Victor, are you talking to Victor?) Mebbe. Mebbe not. Well... I'd better scadoodle.. gotta run to store and get Maynard 2-liter and bottlea ketchup. Hope the car starts. I can't imagine life away from that cubicle. Love, Victurd
No comments:
Post a Comment