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.”


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