How it feels to fly…

If you are reading this, you probably already know that I am weird. So I can tell you this. Don’t say I did not warn you.

There are brief moments my life where vingettes play out and keep the mundane from erasing my childhood sense of wonderment.

As an office worker, my lunch routine is pretty stagnant.

Between noon and two thirty you leave your cubicle to pick up a quick lunch, then return and eat it at your desk to pick up any random calls that may come into your office.

The routine does not vary much from day to day. After a few hours of being slumped over a computer your posture is rounded. Your mind is preoccupied with what you are leaving behind, or where you are headed. You jump in the elevator that usually smells like fried food or lingering cigarette smoke. Sometimes you exchange pleasantries if there is another passenger in the elevator. You emerge into the lobby, seeing people that you work with returning to their posts, and the same security guards that you see each day, that still pretend that they do not recognize you.

As you leave my office building from the back of the building, you enter a plaza that is relatively open and where the wind is always gusty, even on a still day there is at minimum a nice breeze.

You usually need to keep your eyes toward the ground to make sure you are not stepping on, or in something undesirable. The area has people walking to lunch, dog walkers, messengers making deliveries, tourists marveling at things that you pass by without a second thought, young Wall Street workers that are not yet thirty, dressed in suits that cost more than my rent, miserable looking smokers huddling around “No Smoking” signs that glance at you as if they dare you to try to make them stop smoking.

Then, one of the best parts of my work day begins. As you exit the rotating doors emerging into the plaza, the wind hits your face. For a second, you hold your breath against the imposing wind, but then you fill your lungs with the stiff breeze.

As you inhale your shoulders roll back and your posture becomes straighter. Your eyes are directed skyward and as your head follows your eye’s direction you see the break of sky between the tall buildings that surround you. The combination of the improved posture, the sun hitting your face and the uplifting breeze make you feel like you could actually take flight and view the city from above.

You forget your preoccupations as you visualize your trajectory. For a second you imagine what the view would be like as you rise above the street, above the buildings, above the mundane course of daily life. You feel your mouth curl into a slight smile and instinctually you spread your arms slightly away from your body hoping that this time the breeze will really carry you off to be more than just another office drone in cheep black pants and commuter shoes. You don’t realize that you’re actually holding your breath for a second waiting... hoping…

It all lasts for a just few seconds. After a few steps, you still feel the ground beneath you, and you are reminded that you are earthbound, the privilege of flight still reserved for birds and angels. I envy them for a second and then am happy that I have had yet another adventure in flight. I look around me, no one knows my secret, but, now, you do….

What are the odds?

Bossman 1 is out on vacation today. Bossman 2 is in New Jersey today, and Bossman 3 who sits on the other end of the floor from me did not return after lunch, so it’s been a pretty good day. I've gotten through some of my back logged items, and will stay late tonight to get further caught up.

In my line of work, you have nothing to show for a hard day. I shuffle papers all day, and if I’m really ahead of the game, the most that I have to show for it is a clear desk.

I sit here for hours processing expense reports, answering calls for wrong numbers, helping people with printer and computer issues, answering calls for assistance, making travel and entertainment arrangements for the 13 people I support and their clients, and answering calls for people who yell at me because the person that they are calling is not there to answer their call. All day long I’m at least quite busy, and at times I am ready to jump out the window because it is so crazy. I usually take my lunch at my desk so that I can pick up calls or surf the web while scarfing down a sandwich, and lately I rarely work less than 11 hours day.

Regardless of how busy I am during the course of the day, there is one person that I work for that always seems to catch me when I’m doing something non-work related. Sometimes I will stream a radio station from my home town. This takes about 3 minutes, and when that website is up, like clockwork he passes behind me. Get a shoe ad/e-mail from Bloomingdales and load the pictures to see what gladiator sandals they have to offer, guess who swings by? Yep there he is. Update your blog for five minutes at the end of the day, yes, thirty seconds ago, he walked by.

Mind you he never says anything about it. But what are the odds? Is this enough evidence to prove that I’m being taped? Should I store a conspiracy theory about it in the back of my mind? No, I guess it’s just coincidence.