6 May - james is that all there is?
Another election, another 5 years. No jubilation on the streets so the mind turns to ... the past...
Nearly a year to the day I met (let’s call him) James and nearly six months since it run out of steam. Things get compressed once you go past mid-30’s, that’s for sure. Decide it’s time to archive his file. Well, yes, us organised people who have spent years in an office or another, take our routines home. So when I finish dating a man (I simply hate using the phrase ‘going out with’, though dating is one of those Americanism I also dislike) his photos, the occasional card attached to a bunch of flowers or found inside the inner pocket of the handbag he gave me for my birthday, the printouts of all emails exchanges we’ve ever had (ratio of words mine to his: 25 to 1 usually, this is down mainly to my ten fingers fast typing skills acquired a long time ago – males are notoriously more plodding on a keyboard, though their mouse skills seem more developed. Something to do with clicking on porn links/images of which there are simply millions on the web) goes from its accessible position on the kitchen top next to the fridge to the pending files inside the filing cabinet. ‘The others’ will keep him company.
Occasionally I take them all out and cross-reference. Errors become glaring. The wrong marketing of self, the acceptance of budgets insufficient to my expectations...yes, this is where I should have withdrawn funds and aborted the project, I consider. I can’t even blame any department heads. I covered all the roles! All the mixed messages exchanged because we had mixed feelings. That seems to be bullet point one to be revised in the next strategy meeting I’ll have with myself.
This archiving task is made easier and wistful rather than painful by the accompaniment of by Peggy Lee (on repeat) singing Leiber & Stoller’s
“then one day, he went away, and I thought I’d die,
but I didn’t, and when I didn’t, I said to myself…
“Is that all there is to love? Is that all there is?”
bit classier than Queen. You know the one. dust. bite. another.
Nearly a year to the day I met (let’s call him) James and nearly six months since it run out of steam. Things get compressed once you go past mid-30’s, that’s for sure. Decide it’s time to archive his file. Well, yes, us organised people who have spent years in an office or another, take our routines home. So when I finish dating a man (I simply hate using the phrase ‘going out with’, though dating is one of those Americanism I also dislike) his photos, the occasional card attached to a bunch of flowers or found inside the inner pocket of the handbag he gave me for my birthday, the printouts of all emails exchanges we’ve ever had (ratio of words mine to his: 25 to 1 usually, this is down mainly to my ten fingers fast typing skills acquired a long time ago – males are notoriously more plodding on a keyboard, though their mouse skills seem more developed. Something to do with clicking on porn links/images of which there are simply millions on the web) goes from its accessible position on the kitchen top next to the fridge to the pending files inside the filing cabinet. ‘The others’ will keep him company.
Occasionally I take them all out and cross-reference. Errors become glaring. The wrong marketing of self, the acceptance of budgets insufficient to my expectations...yes, this is where I should have withdrawn funds and aborted the project, I consider. I can’t even blame any department heads. I covered all the roles! All the mixed messages exchanged because we had mixed feelings. That seems to be bullet point one to be revised in the next strategy meeting I’ll have with myself.
This archiving task is made easier and wistful rather than painful by the accompaniment of by Peggy Lee (on repeat) singing Leiber & Stoller’s
“then one day, he went away, and I thought I’d die,
but I didn’t, and when I didn’t, I said to myself…
“Is that all there is to love? Is that all there is?”
bit classier than Queen. You know the one. dust. bite. another.
posted by Lisa Taylor @ 8:10 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home