It Snows on Saturday

It is Saturday.  I have brought home a stack of work and arranged it on the dining room table in orderly piles.  On my left, the books I plan to read portions of.  To my right, a stack of manila file folders I must wade through.  Time-consuming evaluations I have to write to make sure people know how I feel about them.  A waste of time.  To decide at this point in the day seems fruitless.  I am angry still, from the day before, and not sure if I want to spend any time at all working at home if it will make me think of work.  And how could it not, really.  My son does multiplication tables across the table from me, concentrating hard, pretending as if he doesn’t like the order of the chart, the clean lines his mother has drawn out for him, the structure and trueness of mathematics.  I am not as content, my mind wanders to every corner, the possibilities for me are endless.  And for me, I am not okay with this.

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~ by jdprickett on February 20, 2010.

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