writing

One of Those Days

Disheveled. Her shirt soaked through

From a Sprite Zero shower at lunch,

fizz went everywhere.

Her glasses, precariously perched

atop her messed up hair.

From her left big toe, her shoe dangled

Moving as she shook her foot.

The right foot firmly on the ground, bare,

That shoe rolled over, upside down but close by.

Absentmindedly, she played with her pen,

Drumming and clicking it, as she tried to

Focus on the task at hand.

Voices around, constantly on phones.

Too much chatter distracts.

She misses her headset, left at home,

Among the piles of paperwork and junk.

Right now, she’s a mess, tired,

Unsettled, needing some permanent change.

One day, she’ll get it all straight…

She’ll have another moment, she knows.

It’s getting to be that time again.

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