Monday 31 March 2008

time to call it a day, dude.

You're reading this in the office, clad in the dowdiness of your trusty white, blue and green sports jacket, affording you polyester respite from the lingering cold of the afternoon's artificially chilled air. Your nose is probably a little clogged up, the victim of a conspiracy between the air's erstwhile frigidity and its present staleness. Even the air molecules have taken a break; why haven't you?

Your briefcase is void of most of its contents. One occupant drapes your back and obscures the shapeliness of the gym-toned musculature you're so proud of; another one (the aluminum one with a small dent in it) sits on your desk, probably half-filled (or half-emptied if you prefer) with warm (the only kind you take) water. The Trinity finds completion in the third item that remains uninvoked, in your bag. The heavens were kind today and so its intercession was not needed.

I hope your left index finger is feeling better.