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delayed reaction
Feb. 7th, 2005 07:04 pmAt one point during our perambulation around IKEA, Paul Young's "Every Time You Go Away" came on the speakers overhead. Man. I said to my mom, "Remember how I used to play this album over and over and over and over?"
"Yeah," she smirked. "That, and Duran Duran. Every time I hear them, I think of my daughter."
Heh. I probably listened to loads more Crowded House and A-Ha than them, but it was the 80's. It all sort of smooshed together in pastel electric bloops and androgynous emotional cooing, didn't it?
In the kitchen section, I took about 15 of these little globular plastic timers, and set them all for 5 minutes or so. I then walked away.
At my brother's house, we finished our little waffle bowls of ice cream, and just as I was getting thirsty, I heard my brother futzing with something as he walked back into the living room. "I bet he's unsealing a bottle of Propel for me, black cherry flavor! Or maybe not. It was just a thought." Two seconds later, he leans over and hands me a black cherry Propel, all opened and ready to drink. Haha, I know him so well. Or is it the other way around?
I spent some time at my desk this morning being quietly weepy over my brother. The day wore on, and I managed to rub the sides of my grief a little smoother, but it's still hanging in my ribs and chest and shoulders.
Tomorrow, I begin work in a new part of the floor. Larger office, bigger desk, but only as a matter of circumstance. They're building this new customer center, and so now my department will have its own cozy corner where we can do our thing and be silly and get stuff done. I'm kinda excited, especially as my new desk is now oriented so that the screen is not visible to people passing by - the computer is able to be set so that it's turned away from the door. Sweet!
"Yeah," she smirked. "That, and Duran Duran. Every time I hear them, I think of my daughter."
Heh. I probably listened to loads more Crowded House and A-Ha than them, but it was the 80's. It all sort of smooshed together in pastel electric bloops and androgynous emotional cooing, didn't it?
In the kitchen section, I took about 15 of these little globular plastic timers, and set them all for 5 minutes or so. I then walked away.
At my brother's house, we finished our little waffle bowls of ice cream, and just as I was getting thirsty, I heard my brother futzing with something as he walked back into the living room. "I bet he's unsealing a bottle of Propel for me, black cherry flavor! Or maybe not. It was just a thought." Two seconds later, he leans over and hands me a black cherry Propel, all opened and ready to drink. Haha, I know him so well. Or is it the other way around?
I spent some time at my desk this morning being quietly weepy over my brother. The day wore on, and I managed to rub the sides of my grief a little smoother, but it's still hanging in my ribs and chest and shoulders.
Tomorrow, I begin work in a new part of the floor. Larger office, bigger desk, but only as a matter of circumstance. They're building this new customer center, and so now my department will have its own cozy corner where we can do our thing and be silly and get stuff done. I'm kinda excited, especially as my new desk is now oriented so that the screen is not visible to people passing by - the computer is able to be set so that it's turned away from the door. Sweet!
