Friday afternoon

It is two hours until the end of the Friday work day. As is to be expected on a Friday afternoon at work I am slowly drinking a can of Coca-Cola © after enjoying a delicious lunch of left over Thursday night dinner—today that just happens to be mac and cheese. Much like any other Friday afternoon I find myself overly anxious for the work day to come to an end so that my weekend can begin. My gaze fluctuates between the contrasting silver on red “everyone pays KIDS price” Six Flags advertisement located just below the coke can's lip and the computer screen’s crisp exhibit of rows 19-55 and columns A to Q of a portion of a Microsoft Excel © worksheet which displays cells with words and numbers differentiated by varying colors of text and backgrounds. The clock located in the bottom right corner of the screen displays 2:15. The two solid dots separating the hours from the minutes remain in place giving no visual indication that seconds are passing by. Broadening my shoulders and straightening my posture I draw into my lungs a deep breath of the scentless office air and prepare to enter a deep relaxation and anxiety release exercise I mastered during my passage through Ogden City schools. Once my lungs are uncomfortably full I lean back on my chair, close my eyes and allow the majestic sounds of nature entrance my being into a state of unconscious bliss. My heart’s pace slows, my mind releases its grasp of the present and knots begin to twist into formation inside my stomach as mother nature miraculously pricks away my conscious barriers until my senses are completely surrendered in her nurturing care. The click of a mouse, the scroll of its wheel, the chatter of fingertips clapping away on keyboards,the distant sound of a hearty laugh, the not so distant muffles of a woman’s chatter, the ruffle of papers and the creek of a chair begin to fade into the vast nothingness beyond the reach of my mind--the great outside. Rich intoxicating images, sounds, smells and feelings drift into what once was my soul. Sharp contrasting oranges and yellows blaze across dark maroon reds and purples. Waves of sharp greens and dull blues burst into existence. The sounds of armies marching, butterflies flapping their wings and a squirrel leaping from branch to branch—his heart beating faster and faster as he avoids discovery by a determined aerial predator—flood into my ears. Popcorn freshly buttered and warm apple pie dominate my sense of smell though hints of wild sage, dark black smoke, gasoline and Kentucky Fried Chicken © also manifest themselves. Anger, desperation, defeat, triumph, gladness, depression, sadness, empathy, orgasmic bliss, and a deep sense of being content wrestle against each other to shape, manipulate or ingratiate me. Then all at once it vanished as a long stream of golden light penetrates the threatening overcast masses of nothing and everything to find its home on a single flower reaching out for sanctuary from its haunted past.

And in this moment, a dream is born.

And it is now 2:16.

-Andrew

I love lists

Things I love

Jacques Lacan
Spontaneously laughing so hard your drink comes out your nose
Playing with smiley babies
Day dreaming about if dragons were real
The Central Square Branch
When it’s too hot to wear clothes
Rusty
Pictures of children taken by their moms
Skirts that twirl


Things I Hate

People telling you: “you are over qualified for this job!”
Apartment “realtors”
When Rusty pukes and I watch him eat it—I can’t look away but it’s so gross!
Not being as adventurous as I imagine myself

--Gwen