a modest reposal
There is not much left to say that cannot be read in between the lines at the corners of my eyes, lines that are smiling from the overwhelming joy and deeply felt sadness of the meandering lines of our footfalls as we avoid rivers that were little more than pleasant, ankle-high streams in favor of the flat, rolling plains so full of hidden ravines and copperheads.
This place I have carved out will be quiet more often than not, as things have changed in my life. Yesterday, I helped my daughter with a science project where we replicated the effects of erosion using a rock tumbler. She took a hammer to several glass bottles, shattering them into sharp corners and teardrops. We dropped the shards into the bin with some sand and water and they emerged three days later, looking very much like broken glass, but the edges worn off and dull.
My son won some award for being worthy of an award. It gave us something in common as this past Friday, I also won some award at work, my first award after 9 years, which made for terrific timing as Friday was my last day.
Which gets us to here. I'm now in a new job, and slowly hunting for an apartment in Seattle. And I am older and more responsible and more prone to think about the regretfulness of my poorer decision making, and more like to increase my retirement contribution and less wont to toss pennies at the bartender. I am the proud owner of a linked in account. ALWAYS BE CLOSING. I am so professional now. I have been at work a full week and not once sipped of alcohol, not once used my work computer for facebook or twitter or blogger.
I am remembering what it is like to move into new, professional space and face bare office walls and trick out my brain with mnemonics to remember all these new names and faces. My new work is a lovely college campus and I have a gym once more and free parking and AM ALWAYS BE CLOSING; I have new glasses and eyeglass chains because the new glasses fall from my face, and am smiling and very sad for who knows what, but mostly for loss and longing and undeserved joy.
This place I have carved out will be quiet more often than not, as things have changed in my life. Yesterday, I helped my daughter with a science project where we replicated the effects of erosion using a rock tumbler. She took a hammer to several glass bottles, shattering them into sharp corners and teardrops. We dropped the shards into the bin with some sand and water and they emerged three days later, looking very much like broken glass, but the edges worn off and dull.
My son won some award for being worthy of an award. It gave us something in common as this past Friday, I also won some award at work, my first award after 9 years, which made for terrific timing as Friday was my last day.
Which gets us to here. I'm now in a new job, and slowly hunting for an apartment in Seattle. And I am older and more responsible and more prone to think about the regretfulness of my poorer decision making, and more like to increase my retirement contribution and less wont to toss pennies at the bartender. I am the proud owner of a linked in account. ALWAYS BE CLOSING. I am so professional now. I have been at work a full week and not once sipped of alcohol, not once used my work computer for facebook or twitter or blogger.
I am remembering what it is like to move into new, professional space and face bare office walls and trick out my brain with mnemonics to remember all these new names and faces. My new work is a lovely college campus and I have a gym once more and free parking and AM ALWAYS BE CLOSING; I have new glasses and eyeglass chains because the new glasses fall from my face, and am smiling and very sad for who knows what, but mostly for loss and longing and undeserved joy.
Comments
So... when you write your novel, I'll be at the front of the line.
Hi, Brandon.
matt, i haven't written my novel so much as written it off. but hiking and beer are still within my grasp.
Also, good look. I mean, good luck.
No. Not that at all.
Good beginnings to you, Brandon.