Real World

I’m returning to work after a good spell away. It’s a short return, just enough to wipe forgetfulness from my eyes and lift the fog from my brain.

I last saw the place under the disorienting, if familiar, threat of a lapse in funding to run the operation. One of my last acts before closing out amid the flurry of emails tracking our status and updating the workforce was to read my instructions in the event of a shutdown.

The shutdown never came to pass.

It seems the nominal head of a department that doesn’t exist, one dedicated to efficient practices in government, had started an avalanche of unnecessary turmoil and misuse of the nation’s resources. Not exactly a coup, I guess.

After checking in for two days I’ll turn on the Out of Office again for the rest of the week. One last time I’ll flick the switch to light the tree and warm my home with that iridescent glow, more a mood and vibe than actual color associated with words.

Then the tree will come down and the artificial pine boughs will return to their boxes with the coiled lights and wrapped-up ornaments. The boxes will be pushed into the storage space beneath the stairs. Day One of the new year will see other decorations emerge, objects taken from boxes after our last move more than two years ago.

We’ve occupied this space for thirty months now, celebrated our third cycle of all the holidays, but still haven’t fully moved in. Life just keeps getting in the way.

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