Whelp, I’ve gone one month and four days without posting.
Halfway through April, my eyes began to bother me… to the point where it killed my right eye just to write in a journal.
Turns out I’m near-sighted in my left eye and far-sighted in my right eye, and the disparity throws my mind for a loop. I’ve been adjusting to glasses over the past week, and I can finally use the computer again! Though I have to take it easy still…
I’m back to writing though! And I’m warming up by writing scraps, as usual.
Heading the financial assets at Paperless Press was the first stable job of Seresa’s life. She arrived in the morning, left in the afternoon, and received a credit to her bank account each Sunday at 2:00am. An office provided her privacy, and her cute little assistant impinged that gift. She enjoyed his dedication to her, his reliability, and his affection, but she couldn’t lay her hands or body on him; company rules.
Seresa couldn’t work through the night if energy and muse possessed her. If she slept poorly she came to work groggy; instead of sleeping in, arriving focused, and working into the evening. They shoved health seminars, relationship counseling, and business strategy meetings into her weekends when she had already mastered her health, her persons, and her work.
Paperless Press maximized structure over individual performance; and it wore on her subtly and without her cognizance; until under a setting sun, her assistant asked her, “Are you alright?” and he cited the loss of her usual brightness.
“Just a little stressed. Thank you for your concern.”
She dismissed Toby’s inquiry as a symptom of his infatuation; but when she looked in the mirror that night she saw darkness under her eyes and a wilting stem.
I hate structure at the expense of individual ability. I understand why a regulated lifestyle works for so many people, but count me out. I’m accustomed to fluidity.
Hopefully, I’ll get used to these glasses as well.