What does it mean to love?
Love is watching a married, older man give a hug to a young woman my age when she found the passenger window to her car smashed after a long day at work.
I have never really thought about love between co-workers. My job was always a bit separate from the rest of my life. I am really touched with the way he calls her by a "young girl" pet name and offered her comfort when everyone should have been happy to head home during a heavy snowfall.
I hope they catch who did it. They had to have specifically targeted her because our lot is out of the way, in a guarded warehouse building across the street from a police station. And it snowed about five inches after lunch, covering his/her tracks.
The guard on duty didn't see anything and apparently the camera for the lot cut off just at the place where her window was smashed. You should be able to see someone approach the car...so I hope they review the tapes.
I hugged her farewell and told her I'd see her bright and early in the morning. It made me think of my relationship with the rest of my co-workers. My supervisor, whom I giggle over inappropriate humor with (Ian McKellen's penis size, Margaret Cho's persimmon diet), the girl who cheerily calls my name with an incorrect spelling of my last name (but it's so endearing, I cannot care), the married older man who greets me several times a day (partly because he claims in my years of working there, he'd only heard me say ten words except in the past six months where I actually talk to others), and the mother who is always trying to feed me because she thinks I do not eat enough and who asks me lots of questions about my schooling because her husband is so controlling that he will not allow his son to go to college here unless someone can convince him his son will not become corrupted.
And hearing all of this, I cannot help but want to corrupt her son. He is a part-timer who keeps to himself, but his mother tells me that even while still in high school, his dream is to become an anesthetist. His father will not pay for his schooling unless it is for accounting. You cannot believe how angry I was to hear it.
And so I wonder...what is love? Is love a concern for the people around you? An involvement in the lives of others? Human connection? If I were to make a list of all the people I love, I wonder how many lists I myself would make it on?
P.S. This adult content screen is absurdity. I hereby publicly denounce it and shall henceforth refuse to use it.
I have never really thought about love between co-workers. My job was always a bit separate from the rest of my life. I am really touched with the way he calls her by a "young girl" pet name and offered her comfort when everyone should have been happy to head home during a heavy snowfall.
I hope they catch who did it. They had to have specifically targeted her because our lot is out of the way, in a guarded warehouse building across the street from a police station. And it snowed about five inches after lunch, covering his/her tracks.
The guard on duty didn't see anything and apparently the camera for the lot cut off just at the place where her window was smashed. You should be able to see someone approach the car...so I hope they review the tapes.
I hugged her farewell and told her I'd see her bright and early in the morning. It made me think of my relationship with the rest of my co-workers. My supervisor, whom I giggle over inappropriate humor with (Ian McKellen's penis size, Margaret Cho's persimmon diet), the girl who cheerily calls my name with an incorrect spelling of my last name (but it's so endearing, I cannot care), the married older man who greets me several times a day (partly because he claims in my years of working there, he'd only heard me say ten words except in the past six months where I actually talk to others), and the mother who is always trying to feed me because she thinks I do not eat enough and who asks me lots of questions about my schooling because her husband is so controlling that he will not allow his son to go to college here unless someone can convince him his son will not become corrupted.
And hearing all of this, I cannot help but want to corrupt her son. He is a part-timer who keeps to himself, but his mother tells me that even while still in high school, his dream is to become an anesthetist. His father will not pay for his schooling unless it is for accounting. You cannot believe how angry I was to hear it.
And so I wonder...what is love? Is love a concern for the people around you? An involvement in the lives of others? Human connection? If I were to make a list of all the people I love, I wonder how many lists I myself would make it on?
P.S. This adult content screen is absurdity. I hereby publicly denounce it and shall henceforth refuse to use it.