(no subject)
In the elevator. I'm going up to the top but everyone in here with me is getting off on four.
Ding.
I'm going over to-do lists in my head, presentation, brochure, proposal, cost-benefit analysis. These things have replaced most of my theatre and all of my poetry. Headspace is oddly finite.
Ding.
Counting calories in my head, and later I'll be counting nametags, counting programs, counting packs of Post-Its and pushpins and pens. Inventory. Joy.
Ding.
I'm alone in the elevator. Adding up expenses in my head, both for my $300 a month apartment and our $280,000 gala.
Ding.
The doors open. She's standing there, waiting to get on. She smiles broadly at me then looks away, embarassed. "How you doin'?" she asks, bumping into me on purpose as I exit the elevator.
"I'm doin'," I reply.
Ding.
The doors close and I'm still smiling.
Ding.
Love,
Beth
Ding.
I'm going over to-do lists in my head, presentation, brochure, proposal, cost-benefit analysis. These things have replaced most of my theatre and all of my poetry. Headspace is oddly finite.
Ding.
Counting calories in my head, and later I'll be counting nametags, counting programs, counting packs of Post-Its and pushpins and pens. Inventory. Joy.
Ding.
I'm alone in the elevator. Adding up expenses in my head, both for my $300 a month apartment and our $280,000 gala.
Ding.
The doors open. She's standing there, waiting to get on. She smiles broadly at me then looks away, embarassed. "How you doin'?" she asks, bumping into me on purpose as I exit the elevator.
"I'm doin'," I reply.
Ding.
The doors close and I'm still smiling.
Ding.
Love,
Beth