7.21.99

A reprieve, like in the movies, comes when it's needed most: Someone else's scheduling conflict has set me free. Then, unburdened by two words on a piece of paper taped to the wall. My eyes were not caught by them; instead I had paused, for no reason, to read again what I've read before. From them came the answer to a worrisome question I've had all week. Translation: For whatever reason, an appointment at work was canceled and I was no longer obligated to stay late tonight. I was lazy earlier in the day, didn't complete some imperative errands. I thought I would have to rush around after work to finish what could've been done at a leisurely pace mid-day. Freedom from the rushing; freedom from extended self-loathing. I've been worrying over what gift to give Yvonne when I go to see her Friday. What can I afford, what can I conjure in this self-absorbed lifestyle that will be adequately meaningful? Two words on a wall in the break room: Mary Oliver.

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