a morning alone

it is friday morning, i believe, and i have been all alone in the cubicle farm for seventy minutes. the only sounds i hear are the quiet roar of the air conditioning, the whirring of the computer's cpu fan, and my clackety-clacking on the keyboard.

no one has come in. usually someone is here by now.

i have received no e-mails this morning. not even work-related ones or junk mail. i usually have four or five by now.

there was no one on the elevator this morning, and i rode up to and down from the helipad without interruption.

i have been up for two hours and forty minutes and i have not yet spoken a word to anyone.

is the whole world on pause, and did i miss it?

i look out the window and see an airplane fly by. no, i guess not.

i imagine pushing the rewind button and watching the plane fly backward.

i did not get enough sleep last night. between my allergies and the treatment thereof i could not stay asleep longer than fifty minutes (or so) at a time. i don't think that has made a difference. not today.

unlike yesterday, i have no ambition today. i've got a strange feeling at the bottom of my chest and tingliness in my fingers. i've got some questions in my mind. irrelevant questions. questions regarding my recent behavior and how it has been perceived. questions regarding my motives and options. the answers to these questions will not change the course of my day whatsoever.

today is the day we commemorate the death of Christ. it is good friday. i have been given the opportunity to meditate on this alone.

i think i will go get something hot to drink and then return to the cubicle farm.

i am no longer creeped out by how empty this morning has been.