The Remains of the Day

Sometimes work can be a real drag, especially on an uncharacteristically warm Tuesday in March when texts and Facebook status updates play the role of a constant reminder of what you're missing while working through lunch because something's been thrown on your desk at 11:15am that needs to be completed by 4pm. Today was one of those days that had everyone talking about how beautiful it was outside, too nice of a day to be inside, how bright the sun was shining. Well, beans don't fry in the kitchen and the bills ain't gonna pay themselves, so I had to stay in and get work done while folks were able to play in the sun.

It almost seems as if you've been punished when you leave work, you get the remnants of the beautiful day. The sun has taken that low position in the sky where the glare blinds you all the way home. Folks are out and about smiling from ear to ear, children are running around with no homework completed, dopeheads are back for the afternoon fix, hustlers and hoodrats are scattered through the streets with not a care in their minds and here you are, the working stiff with the weight of the world on your shoulders and the sun in your eyes trying to get home to enjoy at least 15 minutes of what has easily been the most beautiful day of the year.

Then, just as close your mailbox and see the graying sky, you're reminded of the big picture. You accumulate 5 vacation days and 3 sick days every three months, so while these same folks are sweating it out through the summer, you'll be on the beach in Aruba with a fruity drink, stomach out, sand between your toes, holding hands with somebody's daughter watching the most beautiful sunset they'll never see. Karma

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