Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.
This little rhyme has been rolling around my head since
yesterday morning. Monday mornings are just
so terribly hopeless. Such is life when
one is totally burnt out and completely uninspired with her job. It’s that hopelessness, that knowing that the
work week this week will be like last week’s will be like last week’s will be
like last week’s…and fantasizing about anything better than last week… that
keeps me wanting to stay snuggled under a pile of blankets on Monday mornings. I will think, “Oh, if only I could just stay
in bed forever!” It’s a terrible wish
and one I would never say out loud. Sure
as shit, God would grant it if he heard me say it.
It’s not so much that I want to stay in bed really, but more
that I don’t want to face another day in the office. It’s not that my job is routine and boring,
because it’s not anything like that. It’s
more like a 12-ring circus with so much going on that nobody can see it all. When I leave at the end of the day, it feels
like I’ve been splattered to the four walls, or ripped apart by hungry wolves,
or something devastating like that.
As horrible and hopeless as my work life is, Spring seems to
be here today and has brought its hope to my spirit. Hope is a wondrous thing. I stepped out at lunchtime and took in one
deep breath that carried the smell of freshly mowed grass and daffodils. The warm sunshine caused me to shuck off my
jacket and look up to see a cloudless blue sky.
It all reminded me that those 60 hours of corporate slavery are nothing
that matters in the big scheme of things. Golf courses to visit, lakes to paddle my
kayak on and swim in, woods to tromp through with Gracie, horses to ride, and
gardens to plant and tend….all these things are promises of spring. My hammock!!!
Yes, soon I’ll be hanging that up again.
There is so much to be grateful for. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a
needle in my eye...but not in the spring.
2 comments:
It rotten when work is like the enemy. It's nice that you have a place to escape to when you exit the work doors.
That little line is similar to the one that I used to say. Except I would say "Cross my heart and hope to die, should I tell a single lie".
I've not died yet so it's obviously completely untrue.
My brothers and I used it as a solemn promise not to tattle for something we had witnessed the other doing. Sometimes it was just not enough to ask the witness to swear not to tell, he had to cross his heart and say the rhyme...as if there really was some kind of honor among thieves! "Should I tell a single lie" seems much less brutal than stick a needle in my eye!! :)
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