I am awkwardly quiet today. Its past lunch time and I am still wondering when to eat. Something is stalling my senses though I am starving. Finally, I reluctantly get up from my official hole and walk towards the exit to get a bite in the delicious weather. It is seventy degrees and blinding with sunshine. My office is almost deserted. Everyone is outdoors and probably saying to each other : Such a nice weather and I am playing the official response : Yes it is, Can you believe what a relief it is after the cold wave last week. OK I get it : like me, no one likes winter very much. That is why we live in Texas but enough with it already. What is wrong with the world lately? When will we quit thinking that we are in an invincible cocoon to fill our lives with small conversations?
A furious whiff knocks me over making me collide with my car. My hair are swept all over my face and for a moment, I stop. I let the wind do its thing. All along, I have been wanting for summer to begin and here it is, on its toes and ready to sweep.
I realize it may be PMS. No, my mind clarifies, too early. What is it, then? I demand an answer under my breath. Nothing shows up. I decide to pick some soup. Seems like a perfect choice given my slow mind, sluggish body and an out of sync feeling.
I wait in the queue for my turn – as expected the line is longer and slower. Your patience is out on sick leave, reminds my mind. I nod in agreement and stretch my neck to see if the line is moving at all. Well – virtually it is. Right when I arrive to order, the attendant moves away taking a call. I sigh. She comes back after a few moments but those few moments knock me over. I watch her head turned away but in urgency responding to the phone call. When she turns towards me – her bespectacled eyes are full and her lips are stretched in, holding back something of a greater magnitude. I order the soup but I keep my gaze at her wondering if she’d burst any moment now. And I wait – after I order, after I hand the credit card and after I sign and move to the side waiting for the soup or perhaps an outburst. But she proves me wrong. She goes into a corner for a second, rubs her eyes clean and returns with a plate to serve a few men away, laughing hard and indifferent. She keeps doing it until my order is out and she comes to me. I look at her again, wanting to ask – is everything OK? But I stop with some uneasiness sitting right at the tip of my tongue. So, I pat her shoulder; smile for the first time in the day; thank her and walk out.
I am still far removed from myself when I enter my office. Lovely weather, ain’t it? My colleague holding out the door for me beams. I pause.
Nothing is wrong with the world, it is what it is. Winter will be the bully of all seasons and it is fine to complain and bask in the rowdy, warm wind. And all of us take the beating in this mean and imperfect world – but it is all we have. What we make of it is up to us.
Of course, it is beautiful outside, perfect to take a stroll. I reply with a genuine smile and walk inside.