Sinister: it could have been a brilliant career. or. take your carriage clock and shove it.

[miss lou]

hello sinister.

i've always written self-indulgent posts. every time i
come back to sinister, i know it's for the
self-indulgence, really. and i don't know if this is
good or bad for me, the writer, or you, the casual
reader.

but today. i get to be self-indulgent, i think.

just this one. this one post.

and then i promise to try to be better.

***

so. i lost my job.

i'm still in shock, really. thinking that, come
december, i will have no main source of income unless
i leave the cozy confines of the campus and trudge
into outer lincoln.

of course, it's not like the basement office of the
newspaper has been exactly cozy lately. no. 

i'm not popular here. i haven't been for a while. and
when you hear about the things people say about you,
for the better part of a year, it's easy not to care.
it's easy not to care that they make fun of your
disabilities. or poor choices. or whatever. the music
you listen to -- any laundry list of shit that doesn't
mean much. really.

but then i heard it. in person. and i said something
about it to the proper people. and a week later, i was
out.

so now i sit here in this cubicle. and i know they
talk before i get here and after i leave.

but i sit here anyway, taking the pictures off the
walls. lining the push pins up in a neat row. making
sure it looks orderly for the person who comes next,
knowing that person will learn the order of the
newsroom, and that it is anything but one neat,
straight line of colors.

***

so now i have to find something new to do.

and it isn't that i am entirely sad. i did decide to
break up with journalism in may. it's just...now i am
moving out. 

and i hate moving.

***

i'm thinking i might be in the mood for obits, then.

so tomorrow, i call the other paper. the one i swore
i'd never set foot in. and i will ask if they need
another girl.

it seems proper at this point in time. to show up for
work. take off my scarf. sit down. turn the computer
on. adjust my papers, pictures, can of soda. and then.
catalogue death. every day. and come home at night to
my pregnant roommate. the list of daily phone calls.
homework.

life.

yes.

it might just be time for a new one.



one more brilliant than this one i have led and known
for too long.


xo.lou.



=====
www.somewhereinbetween.net

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