We Can Still Be Friends...

At the end of the day there's another day dawning. I can't think of that song from Les Mis any more without thinking of the lyrics that Forbidden Broadway changed..."At the end of the show we're another year older...sitting flat on our butts for three hours or more..."

I'd sing it for ya, but...it's a blog.

And here it is, at the end of the day, and I find myself taking stock more often than usual. Did I get what I set out to do done? Did I accomplish all of the things on my "Action Item" list? Am I further ahead now than I was at 8:00 a.m. this morning?

No, no, and a little.

What is it about these kinds of days? Anyone else deal with this? I'm ultra-uber-motivated until I actually sit at my computer. I'm ready to take on any task until I sit in this particular room. It's like the will to create is sucked out of me.

You know what I think? I think it's the room.

It's yellow. Not a fun yellow, but a faded, pale, Walmart yellow-colored roses yellow. Not mustard. Not sunshine. Ick. The more I look at it the more I don't like it.

Actually, I can't look at it that long, because I have to look at my fingers when I type. Hang on a sec.

Yeah, it's terrible.

I need a change of scenery. I tell that to Courtney all the time, when Sam is crabbing his way through the day. "Maybe he needs a change of scenery" I say, thinking that it's a cure-all. And you know what? I might be smarter than I think. Anyone else find this to be true? I used to refocus and recharge by whipping someone's tail in a quick game of online Scrabble...but that's lost it's power.

I'm going to change offices. It's a done deal. I'm having an office mid-life crisis. I need to dump my office and start dating other offices.

It's not you, office, I swear, it's me. It's just something I need to do.

We had some good times, office. 'Member? That one time, when I wrote that song in you with the door shut? 'Member?

It's...just time to move on. I feel like I need to see other rooms. No, your walls are fine. Yes, your desk is pretty, and I'll still think of you every time I have a private phone conversation, but it's something I feel I have to do. For me.

I hope one day you'll grow to forgive me. I hope one day you'll understand.

We can still be friends. And maybe you'll find that full-time guy or girl to fulfill your needs...and your black office chair. Maybe it will be wonderful.

Sigh.

I'm going to walk around the building and put out the vibe. See if any offices are single, looking for a SWM, Taurus, likes to work long hours and enjoys food at his desk.