Raw Drip

Bad news: In the event of layoff, this person's got some significant move-out time. Good news: They'll have plenty of Pez to snack on while they pack up."

 

Finally - an answer to the question, "Who do I have to screw around her get some freakin' Post-it Notes?"

 

"For the cubicle prisoner who likes to feel he's on a tropical island..."

 

Clearly someone who thinks of their job as being 'in the can'.

 

Send me a photo of your cube if you think you can do better than these folks.  Consider yourself warned: it’s going to be tough to top the bathroom cublicle guy…

My precious (a.k.a. my MacBook) is away being repaired by the Apple Geniuses so I only have my iPhone and my work computer for blogging & tweeting.  Since typing anything lengthier than a text message on my iPhone is torturous and my work computer isn’t really for personal use , I’m left posting only the shortest of entries for the next few days.  Promise I’ll make it up to you later with another painfully long diatribe that only a few of  you will the have time or attention to read. 

*****

If I could afford to leave this cubicle grave yard and seek out a new fantasy career what would it be, or better yet, what would I be? 

I’ve said I would love to be a writer – which is absolutely true.  Writing is my cardio.  But assuming that writing never manages to pay me a living wage or burn off my plethora of ass fat (and so far it hasn’t in either case), maybe I should try something else?  How about being a massage therapist, a farmer, or a chocolatier?  I mean, what’s not to like about massage,  bacon, and chocolate? 

Then I read this great article from the Sunday Style section of the NY Times about Plan B careers and thought twice about going into massage or farming:   What’s Your Backup Plan?

As for being a chocolatier, I refuse to believe that there isn’t any future for me and chocolate.  We have so much history together.  Besides, the world has yet to appreciate the life-changing, orgasmic power of the dark chocolate coconut daiquiri truffle I will someday invent.  Got your attention now, didn’t I?

I try to avoid being too sentimental in my writing, but sometimes a girl just needs to indulge a little.  Please forgive the lack of raw and the overdose of cream & sugar in today’s raw drip.  I know it’s a jarring shift in tone, reflective of hormonal surges and an annoying lack of good coffee & chocolate in my diet.  I promise to return to form tomorrow.

Thanks,

~Sam

*****

Running my fingers through his hair, I admired his blue eyes glistening even as his eye lids grew heavy with sleep.

“I love you,” I said, brushing hair from his brow.

“I love you, too,” he said, snuggling into my shoulder, eyes closing.

He placed his arm around me with a gentle sigh.  It had been an exceptionally busy day.  Both of us were up at 6 A.M. sharp with a full day’s activities ahead of us – work, school, after-school, and errands – all the juggling and rushing trying our patience and keeping us forever on our toes.  By the time we could finally lay next to one another that night, we were too exhausted for more words than “I love you”.  Instead there was a lovely, indulgent silence between us.  We were grateful for these few minutes together; quiet time, just the two of us.  

“I miss you, ” I whispered.

Yawning, he replied sleepily, “And, I miss you, too.”

Turning the light out and rolling towards the edge of the bed, his hand grabbed my shoulder pulling me towards him.  I felt him warm against me.  More snuggling, and then a surprise.

“I want to marry you someday,” he said.

I couldn’t help but smile.  “I’m afraid you’re too late, handsome,” I said as I removed the tangle of tiny limp arms from me, pulling away, stumbling out of bed. 

The light from the living room streamed through the crack in the open door, reflecting on a narrow strip of race car themed artwork. I blew him an air kiss as I pulled the blankets up to his shoulders.  He didn’t hear me leave.  Already, the soft, wet, heavy breathing of deep sleep had overtaken him.  

Out in the hallway the light from the living room was brighter, and brighter still where Dick sat working.  As I rounded the corner, I could make out the gentle tap, tap, tap of Dick’s fingers on the keyboard – my favorite lullaby. 

I sat silently on the sofa nearby, sipping a warm cup of coffee and imagining the roller coaster ride that was Adam’s day.  It was remarkable to me how all his boundless enthusiasm for life, his nervous energy, constant grasps for understanding and, of course, his never-ending chatter could all be tucked in and put to bed so easily, and yet here I was older, much less energetic, quite sleepy, but still awake thinking of him. 

The truth is, the memory of being with him in peace, stripped of our obligations and free of artifice, could’ve kept me awake all night.  I can think of nothing as joyful as admiring him in repose, brushing his hair with my finger tips and feeling the rise and fall of his chest, just as I did when he was a baby.  The time has gone by so quickly.  We’re not even 5 years into our relationship and just getting to know each other.  It’s all so new and yet, before we know it, he will be tucking his childhood adoration of me into that safe, comfy spot every boy has for his mom. 

When I said to him, “I miss you”,  it was more than an acknowledgement of the fleeting nature of today, it was also my expression of longing for more of the time we had yesterday, and a nod to the inevitability of tomorrow.   I miss you, already, Adam.  You’re growing too fast.  Can we tuck in and cuddle just a bit longer before you have to go?

Dick saw the exhaustion on my face.  He took the half empty coffee cup from my hand.

“You look so tired, baby.  Can I tuck you in?”

“Yes.  That would be nice.”

After filling my water carafe, fluffing my pillow and removing the dog from my spot, Dick pulled the blankets up around my shoulders, kissed my cheek and tucked me in.  I don’t remember much after that, only that I dreamt of the smell of newborn baby hair and warm milk that night.  It was a lovely dream and gave me just the whiff of yesterday I needed to carry me through today.

*****

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