Sometimes you get what you worked for. And then you realize it’s not that great. Happens a lot in life, actually. Until you come to expect that–you realize what something is ‘prima facie’ is not necessarily what it is.
But when something is new to you, you see the bright spots and are optimistic and hopeful and taking it as it comes.
So I am standing in my office in a Construction Law firm and looking out the window. Great view….of the sorta pretty sorta grungy city. And I wish I was outside. I jokingly think of jumping to my death, but not opening the window first-just making a running leap through the glass, making a horrid mess below. Nah, I decide. Life would go on as usual after they power washed me off the sidewalk. And of course most of these thoughts are facetious and passing-but I am definitely not happy. These cases are boring. I’m helping nobody who matters really, in the scheme of things. A bunch of contractors and sub-contractors and so on, cases within cases. Not what I had in mind-but I should be grateful I have an income, nice view, and feel I guilty that I feel sucky.
I go for a walk at some point in the day and see that there is a homeless person who has set up a little crash pad down below, behind the brick wall off to the edge of the street, just under my window. Likely he set it up there in the hopes that the other homeless bastards will leave his stuff alone. And in the hope that police would leave him alone. Every time I see something like that I feel panic. I don’t want to end up like this guy. I think about work as a result–then I shift to halfway envying people who just gave up and said ‘who cares’ to it and do whatever they want. No expectations, no more worry. Then again, they have plenty to worry about, of course. No, I don’t wanna be like this guy. Get back to work.
I’m plugging away and the Mexican receptionist who has me doing her job half the time (Emmilllyy, how do you print it long ways? ; Emmillyy, Do you know how to use tracking changes in Word??) comes into my office and asks if I want food. I say no thank you. She says the company is paying for it. I say okay. Chinese, it will be.
I always check the cookie. I’m superstitious and realize it’s stupid to be superstitious, but try and stop me. The little white piece of paper says ‘despair is criminal’ and I’m really knowing this cookie is for me. Made me smile.
I still have it, three years later.