Without Even A Cow To Trade

Sitting here and trying not to get mired down in frustration, which is an area of opportunity for me. I have become so brainwashed in the corporate PC jargon that it is now automatic for me to say “area of opportunity” instead of “where I suck”, or “how I typically fuck up”. All those great single syllable “uck” words going to waste…

Anyway, I’m trying to let other people’s frustrations flow through me instead of latching onto the small chunks of crisitunity already being harbored in my system until I’m rife with frustration tumors, giving birth to devil spawn frustration pupa.

I’m trying to focus on the vacation to come next week and not on the teething, cold infested, 14 month old that’s going to have to sit through a 2 hour plane ride. I’m trying to ignore the same cold that’s trying to take my body down. I’m feeling a little overheated, a little feverish, so I laid my forehead down on the coolness of my desk for a moment. From this vantage point, I could clearly see a little green thing on the floor of my cubicle.

I thought it might be a pistachio or something, but I picked it up and discovered it was a dried bean of some sort. It looks like a lima bean perhaps. It does not belong to me, I have not eaten anything at my desk that resembles this.

Perhaps it is a magic bean. I almost hate to say anything about it, for it seems to me that magic is a pretty fragile thing and words can break it like ice, but I’m holding onto it, my magic bean.


Feb(r)uary Song Of The Day: “You Don’t Know What Love Is (You Just Do As You’re Told)” by The White Stripes.