Living In The Dark
Bored At Work
This is my first entry.
I'm sure when I post this it will have a number somewhere
on the page that says "1" or "First entry" or something of
that nature, but I have no reference point right this
second so I am making that note for myself.
I am at work, babysitting ballroom dancers. As you continue
to read this journal, you will come to understand what that
means. However, this is the first entry, there is no
history from which to glean information, so I shall provide
I work at a theatre and on Monday nights a ballroom dance
class is taught in our rehearsal space. For safety and
legal reasons, there must always be a staff member in the
building when a client is using the space. Tonight, I am
that staff member. I am regularly that staff member.
I really should not gripe because I get paid a phenomenal
wage to sit on my rear end on a night like this. And I do
enough real work during the week that I earn some time on
my rear end. However, the ethical worker in me feels
guilty - like I could be doing something constructive like
searching for burnt out lightbulbs, or reorganizing the
dimmer and amp room.
But I'm not. I'm surfing the net, starting a diary and
winning constantly at Free Cell.
When my shoulders touch the bed,
The weight of dust and heady airs
Stays clung in those grooves
Where duty dug in and
Popped a rivot through that
Gap in my collar.