For just a moment I was “Somebody”

I overheard myself being referred to as “somebody” in a phone conversation here on the cubicle ranch (as in: “Somebody here said they heard you were gone today.”)  Of course, when I heard that, I immediately felt compelled to launch into my impersonation of Brando in “On The Waterfront” (as in Terry Malloy: “I coulda been somebody Charlie…”).  It wasn’t pretty.  (Although, as impersonations of people impersonating Brando in On The Waterfront go, it wasn’t too bad.)

 

 

 

 

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End Date

I just entered my start-date anniversary into my Outlook calendar here in my little corner of the back-forty on the cubicle ranch.  In the process of adding recurrences (the yearly pop-up reminder commemorating the date of my incarcera…er, arrival), there is a choice pertaining to an “end date, with one option being “No End Date.”

(*sigh*)

Sitting here,  that simple checkbox stares me in the face, seeming less an innocuous interrogative than the diabolical plot of a maniacal madman, grinning through gritted, twisted teeth, like ivory towers; once beautiful, but now crumpled under the pressure of so much clenching – the cruel taskmaster conveying with crystal clarity his subtle but unmistakable threat that there is no forseeable end to my cubicular torment.

But, in the midst of my travail (over-stated as it is), I’m reminded that there is, in fact, a grand, final end date, and that each passing day brings me closer to seeing the One who set it.

Today would be a great day Lord…maybe today