Round the clock (Day Two)
I started out quite optimistic. As I walked to work, the big jigsaw puzzle seemed to be falling in place with no missing pieces. I focused on crossing the streets, on writing and looking alive. It worked. But not all day long. At one o'clock, I felt freer and lighter than I had managed to be in a long time. I was in charge, control recovered. At three, sorrow came in insidiously. It started with a phone call.
Discovery of the day: I can stay logged off the computer, but I cannot avoid the phone, at least in the office. My safety net does have some holes.
At four, I was begging for more work to do. I got my wish. Till six, I turned reading and rewriting into some kind of drug, keeping my thoughts dormant. Now it is past ten. There is the usual racket, with the television showing a soccer game, the copying machine vomiting paper sheets, the bored secretary talking to her neighbor on the phone. I may not be happy, but I am wholly here. And that will do.
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