|
Hollow-Holler
|
April 27, 2006 - 9:21
This morning I was greeted by an enormous banner: "Welcome, sons and daughters of the Bank of America center!". All of me recoiled, and I wondered just who this business thinks I am, that I'll allow them to call me daughter. But elevator banter provided the information that today is "take your child to work day", so I feel better I guess. Tom's family, who calls me "Brooke", (not because they don't know any better, but because I look like a Brooke that they know), are all here crowding up the place. Did anybody's parents ever take them to work? Mine certainly didn't. Which is not to say that I wasn't taken to work under different circumstances. During summer breaks my dad would enlist me to rake the wet mortar from between the new-laid bricks with a nail-head on wheels. I'd listen to head phones, or cuss words that I'd never hear otherwise. It really was interesting to fully witness my Dad's awkward alienation from his crew. Or maybe I would be watching cable television in one of my mom's houses. Marveling at her cardiovascularly methodical cleaning caper; all sorts of excess movement to stoke her heart rate, lunge vacuuming, real stair step, never stopping for anything. Yes, I guess I'm for Take your Child to Work Day.
I got a tetanus shot yesterday. It didn't hurt at first, but now it feels like my muscle had been meat-tenderized. Some strange cauliflower-ey lumps appeared and disapperared on my shoulder. But the good news is, I'm lock-jaw free for 10 years, and safe from whooping cough FOR LIFE. Also, they gave me an inhaler for my allergies, but it's proving feeble in the face of my throat spasms.
In recent weeks, my new work bathroom ritual has been to use the facilities on every floor in order. Today I started the cycle over again, at floor 17. In a few minutes I will descend to floor 16. An hour or two later I'll mark floor 15, etc..
A little trick I picked up in Bedlam.
|
