greetings from the fishbowl.

Working is something I’ve been doing since I was fourteen.

But this is my first ‘grown up’ job. It may be a temporary position, but I have an office.

                Sort of.

I stole it from a man. It’s not like he put his name on the door or anything. He just didn’t show up for work one day, and I needed a place to sit, so I sat there. It’s become my little fish bowl.

                I have an uninterrupted view of the entire city of cubical. I can see who is going to the bathroom. Who is being interviewed. Debbie bouncing on her exercise ball. Rolly back pack guy going to as the front office ladies questions. Rolled up pants guy pacing back and forth in front of my office, trying to pluck up the courage to talk to me. Hilary walking to Fran’s office. My mother going to fax things. Max going to get Hot Tamales from my mother’s cubical…

And so much more.

But one thing is that if I can see everyone, everyone can see me. People un-bashfully stare at me. They don’t even wave, they just look at me in my fishbowl. My frozen tundra fishbowl. I almost can see my breath in there, therefore I bring my hot pink Snuggie to work.

That girl in the fishbowl wearing a Snuggie listening to Josh Groban?

                That would be me.

Today I was working along, just having a grand old time, when someone’s face appeared very suddenly in my office.

I had my earbuds in and didn’t hear them come into my fishbowl, and I was sorting mail so I didn’t see them.

                I squeaked rather loudly in fright.

At least twenty seven heads popped up from the copse of cubicles surrounding me, asking if someone had just died.

                Nope, just the girl in the fishbowl.

They just wanted to know what I was listening to.

                It was The Killers at the time, go figure.

Happy summertime little friends!