Day Seventy-One

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Wow, what an exciting read this must be for you, getting to hear me gripe about my boss every day!

Sigh. I’ll try to ease off on that, OK? Suffice it to say that he’s a… let me see if I can come up with a funny insult that hasn’t been done before. It has to involve the ass somehow… “butt” is inoffensive enough, but being the crude fellow that I am, I gravitate toward “ass”. “Rectum” sounds rather clinical, but with the right phonetic companion I could strike comedy gold. Likewise “buttock” could be very funny given the right… AHA! I’ve got it! “Coccyx Jockey”! My boss is a coccyx jockey! ‘Cause he’s… y’know… ridin’ my ass! It’s got fantastic assonance… ASSonance??? My god, I’m brilliant!

Where the hell was I? Ah yes. Day seventy-one.

Grace and I got up at 5:30 and took a walk around the golf course. I felt walled off by my own moroseness, which made me feel bad about being with Grace but apart. Nothing like meta-sadness, huh?

But hey, we got up. And I got to the train and got to work and actually got some work done at work. Why I bothered is anyone’s guess.

In the afternoon I went over to the post office to mail some stuff. One of the ladies behind the counter would seem to be related to my boss, as she displayed the same ability and passion for making me feel about one inch tall. She started berating me shrilly for standing at the wrong end of the line, when the signs couldn’t be read from the side from which I approached. This woman could have schooled schoolmarms.

I walked out of the post office feeling more deflated and dour, and a butterfly landed square on my chest. Which I thought was the most delightful thing in the world, seeing as how I’ve spent a good deal of time during the last year or two wholly failing to approach butterflies close enough to photograph of them.

So I strolled around Jersey City with this butterfly making itself quite comfortable on my chest. I’m devoutly agnostic, yet I derived pleasure from thinking that even if it didn’t mean anything as such, the event carried meaning. I didn’t want to bring the poor innocent creature into the corporate world with me, so I eventually coaxed it off onto my finger, from which it fluttered down into a small flower patch between an office building and the Hudson. Long may it sunbathe.

I finished up at work, took the PATH over to World Trade Center, walked along the Hudson for a while, made my way over to Union Square, met Grace, and had a healthy meal on the train. And now it’s past my bedtime, so good night!

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