Posts tagged ‘work’

July 31, 2012

Bees. Why did it have to be bees?

Bees. Great. Now, there’s bees in my new temporary office.   I don’t know how they are getting in and they clearly do not know how to get out. They go towards the light of my window and beat their buzzing little heads against it relentlessly until they collapse and join the other dead bee-bodies on the window sill. How horrific it must be for them. Seeing freedom, but not quite able to reach it, while below all they see is the carcasses of their friends.  If only they had the capacity to grasp the concept of invisible glass walls.  Then, they could take the time to find a way out… but they don’t get it.  Poor little bastards.  They just keep buzzing, and banging their heads, and dropping dead.

I wonder if it’s their little wings or their little hearts that give out first? It must be their wings, actually, because they wind up crawling around for a while before they finally curl up and join their brethren in defeat.  I wonder if their queen misses them? I wonder if they start blaming the bee they followed in there, or if they curse their own stupidity for venturing into unknown territory?  I wonder if in their last hours they beat themselves up internally so badly that their little egos wind up as bruised and battered as their little heads.  Do bees have egos?  Somehow, I doubt it – but then again that may just be my own, much larger, ego speaking.

I wish I could open the window for them and let them out. I would if I could, but,

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July 31, 2012

Park This…

Yesterday, I hauled myself into work with the help of a crutch and my new friend Percocet.  I got there a little later than usual, and so there wasn’t any parking spots nearby in the lot I am assigned to.  I decided I would need to use my new handy-dandy official  handicap parking hanger, that I really would rather not be  using.

The hanger is perfectly legit, and legal for me to use anywhere – and, right now, unfortunately, I do need it.  Still, I don’t like using it, and really have only used it twice so far. 

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March 10, 2012

“Follow Your Bliss”

Someone told me recently, I should not quit my day job. No, I wasn’t singing… (for once).  It was my boss, when I told him I was interviewing for a different job.  He didn’t want me to leave.  Unless I was leaving for my “dream job”.  Then, by all means… he said, I should “follow my bliss”.

“Follow my BLISS”??

I wondered, aloud, if he really thought that my current position was “blissful”? Seriously?   I mean, I get along great with him… but, he was just a part of the so, very not, blissful picture.   In his defense, I think he just meant not to take any old job just to get away from there..  but, still, I found myself wondering, was I following my bliss??  Would this new job I was interviewing for be “blissful”?  I didn’t wonder for long, I was sure it would not be.  It would be a job. 

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October 12, 2011

Courtyard Café

The weathered wooden picnic tables
always get taken first. We’re never first,
so we settle around the yellow mesh metal
that tips between us with each careful sip.

We ignore surrounding red brick walls
with veils of vines that disguise rusty windows
and all the watchers that might be watching
with potentially jealous, hungry eyes.

I nod blankly as you softly spew gossip,
so that we blend right in with the rest,
picking the same old shit out of lunch bags
or from cardboard trays in the Courtyard Café.

But, I can’t really hear you over the sky
blasting blue and bright gold in my eyes. And look-
there! A sparrow is flitting around flowerless trees
searching for the last Indian summer crumbs.

Nobody wants to be here today
where even this man-made square slice of nature
is coveted space for only temporary escapes,
and Autumn calls from beyond these walls
with each falling leaf.

~ smj

Working Class Hero, John Lennon

August 5, 2011

Peace Out

Can’t see the night
through reflective windows.
Can’t feel the rain
through the floors overhead.
Can’t hear my own thoughts
over that damn florescent lightbulb.
Yeah, its buzzing
might just
kill me yet.

But, I know it’s dark out
I can feel it creeping in,
and I know it’s been raining
yeah, I feel it seeping in
and I think I heard a thought
leaking right out of my head
through windows and floors
it made its escape.
Felt no remorse
when bulb’s buzz
went dead

Peace out.


 Grey Room, by Damien Rice