Record of Events

Dreamt of being chased through a grove of trees. Woke up whimpering:

wrote a poem, ate toast. Googled a friend’s book, burnt the coffee. Checked the tomato plant on the porch, watched geese fly south in a big hurry.

Later, at the office: Workers clean the windows outside, swinging by thick cables. I am copied on a bunch of emails. None say anything except “I’ll keep you updated” and “Certainly, I agree.”

and Then, Coworker drops the ball on an important project. My coffee goes cold. Boss takes me aside, tells me to “Play Nice.”

And so, I do. Do you ever wonder if standing in front of the microwave is killing all your eggs?