Goodie. It's Tomorrow. I Have to Share This.

The following is taken from a letter (not email, mind you but a hand-written letter) that A. sent to me. I read it, I cried. I realized that even though his paragraphs were not broken up the same way I have typed it here, it was sort of poetic.

His letter came on half-sheet unlined white paper. I smiled as I tipped the page so that the paper is angled slightly to the left; to match the left-handed slant of his handwriting.

This is the first actual on paper letter I've received in the two weeks I've been out here. (I have also received numerous emails, which are waiting for me each morning, and 2 flower arrangements, and daily phone calls - which we take turns in making). The letter made me homesick.

I split the paragraphs up into verse-like breaks. I've left everything as it was written otherwise. In a way, it is kind of cheesy as far as POEMS go. What I like best about it is: He didn't write it to be a poem. Just his words on paper.

Just a bit of background: Since he works nights, when I was working back home; he would call me at three o clock - every day. Just to say hi.

He did this because he knew it made me happy. He did this because my supervisor strived to frustrate me and make my day(s) miserable... he did this simply to brighten my day. And because after the first day he called me at work... I told him to never stop.

Anyway... I've prattled on long enough. Thank you if you stuck around to read this far...
______

For the first few days,
it did not really occur to me
that you were so far away.

I go about my daily routine,
scratching entries off of my
to-do lists...
until it is the time
that I would normally call you.

I look at the phone, knowing
that if I called at this very
moment, you would not be there to answer.
sometimes this makes me feel sort of alone.

I try to read a book, or watch some television
and find that I cannot concentrate.

In a typical week,
we spend probably three or
four days at a time apart, yet...

Knowing you are so far away
it seems different.
as if when you were (only) thirty miles away
it brought me comfort,
to know that if I wanted to see you all I had to do was ask.

Now, we areon different shores,
and with all of these states between us...
it seems like a lot of empty space.

Now that you are not just around the corner,
I realize that the simplicity of your closeness
is something I may have taken for granted for a long time.

I miss you.

Mood: Happy | Music: Norah Jones - I've Got to See You Again

Just Kill Me Now.

I've been very very busy this past week or so. The office is a disaster. These people have no concept of anything at all.

The current office manager walks me into her 'office' and points to a stack of paper (no lie, it was almost knee high) and said, "I need you to 'help me' make an organized file system for this stuff."

You have got to be kidding me. Have you at LEAST organized it by CLIENT? (nope.) So I fetched an intern (they have three... each of them seem to only be used for trips to the office supply store and to get lunch - crap like that). I hand this intern a sheet of paper with an outline I had written on it, indicating how I'd like to see the stack(s) broken down. [Break it down by Client, (then sort them by date, oldest invoices on the bottom most recent on the top). Then put the invoices older than 2 years in folders and in a file box (labeled as old invoices with the year(s) dates). You get the idea.] (hopefully).

The intern has been working on this (read that: moving papers around cluelessly) for a week. When I checked on the progress, said intern had managed to sort all of these pages by year. (mixed clients in each stack.)

If you have access to a poison that won't cause me a great deal of suffering when ingested, please let me know and we can work out some type of shipping arrangement.

Mood: Disappointed | Music: Lifehouse - Simon