So I start the day off on a new note...OK, there is no new note, really, it's simply Monday.
And Monday, like any other day, starts off with meetings. Meetings about endless, empty, wasteland type of things. I am sure many people have meetings like my meeting. Do the words "timeplan", "roles and responsibilities", and "roadmap" get thrown about a lot in your meetings? Then you have meetings like mine.
I am lucky, anyway-I genuinely like my colleagues and my manager. Since I work in telecom, which is a predominately male field, I am the only woman in my group. And the only non-Swede. Both attributes seem to happen to me a lot here.
It's threatening to rain outside again, which has definitely cast a shadow on my mood. That, and my best friend in the whole world moving to another country (but a country within the EU, so does that mean it's the US equivalent of moving to a different state? I don't know. I tried to get my mouth around it-"My best friend lives in another state." Hmm, moderately sad, and definitely means a long distance carrier takes advantage of the situation. Then tried "My best friend lives in another country." Smacks of funny-looking postage stamps and weird cartel desperation. Plus makes me look like a real loser for not only 1) not having local friendship pool and 2) my best friend didn't think I was enough of a reason to stick around. Definitely depressing. But hey, if I can't moan on this site, where can I? The pilot has turned off the no-venting sign. Feel free to vent about the cabin.)
When I was a child I saw a TV show about a little girl who had just moved to a new planet with her family. She had moved from Earth, and had a box of things she remembered, including her memories of sunshine, which was appreciated as the sun only came out on this new planet one day every, oh, I don’t remember, 20 years or so. And one day her classmates locked her in a closet to be mean, and all of a sudden the sun came out. The kids ran outside and played all day, and when the sun set they trudged back into the classroom to discover that they had forgotten to let the girl out of the closet. She had missed the sun, and had only felt the warmth through the crack at the bottom of the door.
And in some way, I can relate. I think I am always the one laying down on the floor, trying to peer through the crack under the door. Enough of a view to know what I am missing, but not enough to make me try the doorknob again.
-H.
Posted by Everydaystranger at June 16, 2003 01:34 PM | TrackBack