Stupid For Being Present

I'm sitting in Think Coffee early in the morning, a hot toasted bagel covered with cream cheese by my side, my laptop open and blasting away at emails and blogging, listening to INTERPOL.

I'm pretty contented to sit here all day, but I have it already charted out for me since rising this morning. My day has been made up for me already. This does not make me feel better because most of it will be spent in 'the office'.

Now it's not that I don't like the office, or the people that I work for...in fact I find it all enjoyable and refreshing. What takes such a toll out on me it that I'm stuck in a cramped space, without the freedom to get up and walk outside for some air if I would like to. Without the freedom to stop and walk around and stretch my limbs. Without the freedom to get on IM with friends or surf the Web aimlessly. I have to produce. And produce for others, not for myself.

Maybe I no longer understand what it means to be a 'productive' member of society. Maybe I've fooled myself into thinking that such a thing exists. So much for freedom. I envy those who have jobs that causes them to go to certain locales, to explore, to watch and see. I envy that. I worked for five years in a datacenter, with row upon row of cabinets filled with buzzing servers, and I couldn't even enjoy that...if I could! I had to go under them, beneath the raised flooring to pull cables...all night long. I did that until it warped my mind. It attacked the fibre of my being. The core of me.

I care not for working like that again. It's too claustrophobic. Too close to the skin, like hot sweat. But now, I'm sitting at an airy table, watching the young people, especially the women in their late summer wear, stroll in and sit, resting their laptops on their tables and digging in. I am at peace, my bagel and coffee hot, burning my tongue. I smile. Life is simple.

I awoke this morning and got busy. I was late. Sleeping until almost Eight O'clock. I had gotten up earlier, much earlier, to take a leak. But I was in no mood to start my day THAT early . I left the Box as quickly as I could.

Now it was time to return to the realm of fools, just a few hours later. But at least I got some blogging done. I don't know if you are aware of it but I'm falling behind in my blogs, which mean that they are catching up to the present. Soon, the day that I live something out will be the day that you read it. That's if I don't get on the stick. This time lag is important for me largely because sometimes I miss the opportunity to blog, and when I do, I have nothing to fall back on. I make it my habit to post every day. I need the stress of a deadline in my life. This makes me more responsible.

I walk back to the Box, and climb the stairs to the dining room. It was packed and I had to stand in the Hall. Suddenly Wendy, the Wicked Witch of the West, who has returned from her vacation in Hell, calls out. "There's room inside, gentlemen. Come inside of the room and leave the hall."

We move in like strap- hangers at rush hour. We pack in. I find a chair off to the right and take a seat next to Paul the Stooge. As I listen to the stupid announcements, Paul the Stooge leans in close, his breath hot in my ear: "How many days do you have to be in to get perfect attendance?"

What? "To get into the raffle...how many days??" I look at this idiot. There's only five weekdays, Paul. You have to be here for all five days in the week to get in the raffle for perfect attendance. "Oh, we don't have Morning Meeting during the weekends?" Where the fuck are you, Paul? The fucking moon? No, we don't have Morning Meeting on weekends. I turn away from him in disgust. This crack addict is wasting my time.

Yes, it is time for the weekly raffle. If you are here all three days of the week for the Morning Meeting you get into the drawing for free movie tickets. Two winners. The names are called who made it into the raffle this week. My name is called. I'm surprised. I missed the meeting with Muzzy. I thought that they were going to throw me out over that. And here it is that they've forgotten all about it and put me into a raffle. Some shit, huh?

Twenty names are called out, and they all go into an envelope, which is shaken while the meeting continues. Everyone is raucous and impatient. They are loud and obnoxious in the cramped space because the wait is too long for the drawing. Paul the Stooge leans over and whispers again in my ear: "You made it into the raffle?" No Paul, another Hobobob did. I'm just sitting here. He sits back with a stupid grin.

"Hobobob!" Kelly The Ten Year Old calls out, raising the winning slip of paper with the name on it into the air. "The winner is Hobobob!!"

I look, cocking an eyebrow. What the fuck is this about? I won out of twenty other contestants? I wasn't even here for all five days! I look at Kelly The Ten Year Old as the room empties. Another client won the other ticket and we both follow Kelly The Ten Year Old out of the room and into the Tech office where we are handed our prizes. I take my ticket and head to my bed to drop off my jacket from this morning and grab my gear again.

Igor is lying in bed, which is not like him. He's usually up and running about. What's up Igor? Are you sick or something? "I''m resting. How did you get a movie ticket?" For perfect attendance. "You weren't here every day." Don't tell them that. I smile, he smiles back. "So where are you going?" Uptown to take care of some business. I am intentionally vague. He notices it as a sign. Don't bother to pry. "Alright, have a good day." You too bub.

I'm out and down the stairs, busting into the overcast skies and heading to the Way. Oh! The Way is the Subway if you didn't know. I'm moving fast, because this Morning Meeting shit has made me late.

That stupid Morning Meeting.

I'm going to the movies!

Hobobob