novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- constant caricature i'll tell you why everything is going so slowly. the walls and computers are beige; the partitions and desks are a muted combination of gray and blue. mostly gray. the carpet is small quilted squares of gray, blue and beige. it runs the length of the entire fourth floor. there are plants but their life is faked by iridescent green silk. desks are surrounded by binders for meetings, in every shade except the pastel spectrum. there is an automatic hole-punch machine, beige. a mini-brailler, beige. black or blue plastic trash cans lined with clear bags that glint under fluorescent light. one of my coworkers set a simpsons figurine on top of the dividing wall separating her cubicle catacomb from mine. bart in a skeleton suit, grimacing and waving as if in fear. the perpetual little boy, bones exposed, staring down at my perpetual little workstation. at the dusty san francisco snow globes on my monitor. at my posture, my tendency to fold a leg underneath myself as i sit and type. hours on end, hours on end. 1:17 pm - 02.24.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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