Initially, my eyes had difficulty adjusting to the light. I had been told this was common.
I was told that, in time, I would adapt.
Did you know it is summer in Minneapolis? Glorious, sleeveless, knee-cap-exposing summer. The sun is out, the homeless have returned after a six-month hiatus in warmer climes, and the sky is a brilliant and non-snowing blue.
I know this to be true because, once again, I am in the light.
That’s right, cats and kittens, I have been sprung from the Cave.
The Cave, aka The Darkside, aka The Second Reason Pearl Drinks! Where pale-fleshed office lackeys huddle over keyboards littered with the crumbs of day-old bagels pilfered from Marketing meetings. Where the hum of the ventilation system lures one into a dreamless semi-slumber; where a continual twilight leeches the color from one’s eyes and one’s fingertips grow sensitive and begin to pick up on the subtle electronic emissions of the life forms lurking within the soiled, smudged drawers of the contract employees.
You come for the paycheck. You stay for the sleep.
After two months of sacrificial offerings to Byron, Office Avenger, my petition has been granted. I got the call to leave the corporate underbelly and be welcomed back into the pudgy arms of the office proper.
In other words, a handful of people were let go and an open-air cubicle was free.
Hey. Sometimes, that’s just how Byron works.
So here we are, a mere day after moving my computer, phone, papers, pens, and a bag of fast food napkins gleaned from a lifetime of office work. I am back in the light, back where my post-lunch/pre-afternoon-commute naps are once again the subject of scrutiny, where my personal phone calls are both inappropriate and “monitored for quality control”.
And where the sun comes, rainbow-like, through the window of the office across the hall from me.