Automat (An Homage to Edward Hopper)

A love affair in light and dark,

and I could even imagine a sound.

In my head, gazing upon a contrast so stark,

of a lady, canvas bound.

She’d removed only one of her gloves,

as she huddled under the light.

And the yellow domes hanging above,

were ghostly reflections in the night.

With a steaming cup, she sat quietly alone,

the shadows behind her, an abyss.

Her expression was set with an uncertain tone.

Was she waiting for her lover’s kiss?

Each opening sound of the luncheonette’s door,

arose a stir of anticipation.

But without a familiar smile, resolve replaced ardor,

and she was met with a sobering revelation.

‘He isn’t coming,’ her head told her heart,

‘you’re a fool to stay, so just leave.

There’s time enough for you to fall apart,

time abundant, perhaps, to grieve.’

A last sip of liquid warmth, before rising from the table,

buttoning her thin coat against the chill.

His parade of promises had included a mink or sable,

and even that big house on the hill.

But vows mean nothing, when not said before a witness,

at a church, a chapel, or a city hall.

When friends and family can attest a shared kiss,

and, an ‘I do’ can be heard by all.

And so, she turned and exited the automat,

unwittingly leaving her glove behind.

With newfound wisdom, and her pride intact, 
nevermore to live life so blind.

Five Senses

Loneliness:
Looks like a person sitting at a bus stop.
Feels like a room full of people that don’t talk to you.                       

Tastes like a cold dinner.

Sounds like a T.V. playing in the background of an empty room.

Smells like the air, just before it rains.

Joy:

Looks like the grinning, five-year-old niece, who’s been looking out the window, waiting for your car to drive up.

Feels like getting your homework-paper returned, with an ‘A’ on it.

Tastes like Godiva’s white-chocolate-raspberry ice cream.

Sounds like your favorite basketball team making the winning point at the buzzer.

Smells like the kitchen of the little old lady who bakes, whom you’ve lived next door to since you were three years old.

Damage Counseling Integration

     I like to sit in my office and fish. I don’t always catch something, but when I do, I get cheers.

     I could go all day and not catch a thing. But that’s just the way it works sometimes.

     And fish hate to admit that they’ll get caught sometimes. They may dodge that hook for a while, but eventually, another in hip-waders will catch’em.

     I’ll attempt to make the bait as attractive as possible—I’ll spike a nice, fat worm on the line, so the occasion is less severe. 

     I’ve never caught a whale; they’re just too big, sometimes. But I’ve caught Golden Trout, a Striped Marlin, an Alligator Gar, a Bowfin, and a Largemouth Bass. 

     The upside is that I can tack on fishing to my résumé’s ‘Skills & Qualifications’ listing. Who knew? And, my most unusual day of fishing was when I fished for a fish that was already fishing. 

     You’re scratching your head, right?

     My fish was in a boat in a Louisiana swamp, but still within cell service, when he responded to my ploink. It was also the reason he bypassed my lure.

     But I do hope to catch that whale, someday. 

Nous sommes avec Paris!

Korea Fear

I’ll be the first to agree that employment is a fickle thing. If a company is small, then perhaps nine and a half months of employment isn’t something to sniff at, before one is laid off.

It’s just frustrating when the small company is gobbled up by a larger company that suddenly finds itself unable to justify continued production of multiple in-stock parts. Therein lies the rub.

I’m glad I had the good sense to take advantage of a ‘two-for-one’ sale at a local vision/optics store; my previous specs were ten years old—hardly heirloom-worthy. And, for a time I got to be the auntie that spoils her little brother’s kids. (When Mom and Dad say ‘no,’ Auntie will say ‘yes.’)

For the first time in years, I had the kind of employment that didn’t require me to work a bloody holiday. That’s impossible in the medical community that was my prior career. Be it emergency services, hospitals, or nursing facilities, they’re all 24/7, 365 days a year. Shift managers will either flip a coin, or draw names from a bedpan to see who gets only one of three of the crucial holidays off.

Don’t even get me started on casinos, either. The week of X-mas through New Year’s Day, all bets are off. (In a manner of speaking) It’s the busiest time of the year in a casino-resort town that employs forty percent of its population. So if your normal day-off falls on X-mas day, or New Year’s Eve, show up or accept your walking-papers. I missed one of my brother’s weddings simply because he and his fiancée chose to tie the knot two days after X-mas.

So, despite the minor commuting, (which was only horrid going home during spring and summer) I felt the recent job was working out.

I don’t know if I feel so desperate for employment that I’d commute even further. Though it’d be great if I could find something in my own ‘backyard.’ Here to the next town t’ain’t bad, either.

But the other thing is, just not having anything truly productive to do—other than obsessive amounts of house-work—can bore the hell out of a Gemini. Anyone and everyone needs some sense of task-oriented stimulation. (A salary to go with it ain’t bad, either!)

So, if any H.R. directors happen upon this flogging blog, detail-oriented labor is merely the cherry on top of my hidden savvy. Where I lack in in-demand, geek-worthy computer skills, I make up for in editing/proofreading expertise after a term of publishing my college’s lit mags. It works up my grammar-n-spelling-Nazi ire to read a badly written, badly spelled, online article.

(Ah…as for the deliberately bad grammar above, that’s just for spice of dialect. Though, imagine my spit-take confusion when my brother’s Kiwi fiancée asked me about the recent Korea Fear I attended a while back. Talk about WTH...until I deduced she meant Career Fair.)