Saturday, February 23, 2008

Still life at my island office.

Our door is painted a dark, dusty red. The paint is peeling near the bottom where one too many people have kicked it open when the latch sticks. The white cinderblock wall that the door is mounted in is pock-marked with termite holes. Each one a small brown blemish in the white-wash. Did you know that termites can eat through cement walls? They can.
An ancient drip from the ceiling has slowly stained a large section of the upper wall. Each time it rains, the moldy grey streaks work their way further down to the tiled floor. In a haphazard attempt to conceal the stain, a wall calendar from 2003 has been hung. Apparently June 2003 was the month of the blue Pontiac. Someone had a meeting, double underlined, on Wednesday morning at ten. I hope they remembered.
A stainless steel fuse box is unceremoniously bolted in one corner. An explosion of brightly colored wire erupts from the top of the box and spreads throughout the building. Orange and green and red plastic coated wires mix with unsheathed copper, silver and dull grey. Some wires disappear into the walls and ceilings, only to reappear again several feet away. Others have been added later and are simply stapled to the ceiling in an attempt to keep them from falling into our faces. When the rain is especially heavy, drips of water run along the exposed wires. The drips race each other across the room, each one hoping to be the first to land on my desk. I have become an expert at anticipating the best placement of sensitive electronics in a storm. I’m not sure where this skill should be placed on my resume.
The broken fax machine sits next to the broken printer. They are both placed on a tilted broken desk next to a metal filing cabinet so rusted that none of the drawers can be opened.

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