It’s hard to take emails from work seriously when you’re standing next to a waterfall. Sure, my boss needs help downloading a video I emailed her, and I’ll definitely get around to telling her that it works just like downloading a picture, but for a little while, it’s nice to be distracted by the relentless movement of water rushing out of the ground, bursting from cracks in the cliffside, and all around reminding me that however exhausting everything gets, there’s no wifi underwater.
I don’t know how well it comes across here, but I have this constant internal monologue going that has been constantly at war with my sense of propriety for about as long as people have been concerned about what I wear in public. Mhm, yeah, I know I should avoid cussing at children, even if they’re being loud near my hangover, but wouldn’t it just be so satisfying to lean in and say to some kids yelling in line at Safeway, “Your shitty parents are going to die someday.”
Naturally, I don’t do that. But the impulse or ones like it are always there. There are 3 drafts to every email I send: what I’d like to say, what I’d really like to say, and what I can say without getting fired.
Except, when there’s this unstoppable tide of springwater leaping from a cliff into a vivid pool, it’s hard to want to be an asshole. Skyler wrote a shitty set of examples for projects he wants us to follow. David is taking 5 days to respond to a yes or no question. Sean is being passive-aggressive. I don’t care. Look at the bubbles.
Is there a way to bottle this feeling of absolute insignificance and bring it home with me? It would be nice if I could choose when to feel so small that nothing at my level has any real consequence. If it were an option, I’d pick Wednesday afternoons to release myself to the void of total insignificance. That’d make Thursday come a lot faster, and I can manage Thursdays. If I could wait until my boss was obsessing over something unnecessary and making it everyone else’s problem, could I just give her a little waterfall and say “we’re too zen to care about whether Jeff’s a little too curt in meetings.”
I stuck my face in the water and drank as much as I could. I wanted some of that zen stuff to ride around with me.