There’s over two hours left in my work day.
Yet, as fascinating as moving contact information from one site to another is, I keep distracting myself.
If I lean my head six inches to the left, I can see past my half-cubicle wall and through an office, into a window that takes up 2/3 of the whole wall.
The skies are a mottled gray, taunting fresh rain to parched tongues and tires
But no one lets themselves hope for more than a few minutes
So they continue on, through the dirty random gusts of wind
Through the window, the American flag and Texas flag wave violently by the bursts of air flowing fiercely, side by side but brutally attacking each other, controlled by other elements.
Although there’s not much to see beyond rippling cloths of red, white and blue, I’m seeing so much.
Quietly slipping into a daydream, hidden in my little corner,
Wondering what is happening right this second
That I’m missing because of these silly phone numbers?
What event is taking place, somewhere else, that I could be at?
Don’t you ever wonder what you’re missing out on?
I will see it all one day. After the finances become sturdy enough to rely on for years of adventure.
Until then, simple weekend getaways will have to suffice.
But just wonder, something could happen right. this. second. and you’re missing it
It could be life-changing, eye-opening, the moment of truth, the event to help you see yourself,
The adventure to help you grow into you, the split-second where you face death and win.
And snap, my focus breaks.
Back to the phone numbers, names from clients years ago, gathering cobwebs inside the web of worldy wideness.
Side glances from time to time keep me going, each glimpse of the window a new bright dream to turn over in my head.