Missing Work

Author's Note: May surprise you but I do write drafts of these. And a time I write is this golden 15 minutes when I put my daughter to bed and she watches YouTube. It's my time to nap or cruise social media. Save I also was 2 mai tais deep into this. And exhausted from 4 days of being FT problem solver and dad and homeschooler. But no one reads these so here it is. I'll drink less. It's bad for my diabetes.

The Rona Riot makes you see who really turns the world. I'm not a socialist but it's for sure labor. The worker bees as somone once told me at my old job when they say the 500 pairs of donated scrubs sorted and folded by nurses. Going to sound like Tyler Durden but it's the folks who cook your meals, drive the bus, clean the rooms, etc. 

It's artist. Let's watch something. Let's read. Play! Paint and make. Idle and I need to consume. Will we produce more philosophers after weeks of art? I will have seen all the Tremors movies by the end! This, I know.

Oh, and teachers. I'm biased but teachers are amazing. I know there are bad teachers but they need to have that collective level of head tipping platitude as "Support The Troops." Because there are idiot troops just like bad teachers but overall you do that at great sacrifice to your own world. 

I miss my coworkers. My teachers. The cadence of everyday. There are students who hang out their car windows at the arrival car line and scream good morning at everyone jogging into the building. I imagine them hanging out brick windows over hung laundry singing about girls named Maria. 

I miss the pink highlight tips and single braided strands of the teacher who commands the bfast arrival. The star shatter laugh of the AP as she humors some kid going on about Minecraft. Every morning I would hear the ruffle of my principals dress as she runs from her car saying "sorry! Sorry!" Kindergarten teacher lining up kids by the brick wall and sipping from her travel mug so all I see is her glitter kill eyes.

I dont miss the bullshit. The flabbergasted people who run away from the copier. Hustling for spaces like an awful game of Twister. The decisions left to rot on the vine as we check for brand. For more data.  But solving it gave me some meaning for somone without anything special.

The gladiator sandal clap of one of our executives. The ying yang synergy of these two  third grade teachers.  One shadow and one beam of light. I miss the exasperated groans of our math teacher when her kids wild out. The "people!" of my office mate as people clamber to her for help. I miss the wizard in winter green magic of the teacher who forces plants from nothing. In her jungle I try to catch mice.

The sharp metal clack of the bathroom latch snapping into the door when somone runs there during their one break. The spiderweb questions of somone running out of PTO. 

Hum of the copier

Spiderwebs in the corner

That unflished mineral urine smell

Satisfaction from peeling away petrified chocolate milk.

Cocoa puffs rolled into the dust pan.

Memes taped to the office door

Missing garbage cans clatter 

Plastic envelopes shucked of sporks

I want to help but I'm separated