Going Forward?

[Yes, it's hot. So what?]

[In the concrete-and-crabgrass plaza at my workplace, sitting in the meager, stunted shade of what my friend Jessica calls "Irvine trees" (for that ultimate in American suburban planning, Irvine, Orange County, California), getting yet another lecture from my boss about being (dis)organized (when I'm a lawyer, I'll have people to cross my T's, right?), and feeling like it's been an awfully long time since I cried. The utterly stupid frustration at work (my fault, his fault, the industry's fault); chronic financial cliff-surfing; a chronic issue with John I'm not going into right now; catching myself waiting for law school to save me, and knowing that's not a good way to approach it (especially since I haven't even taken the LSAT yet); realizing I haven't cracked a new book in over a month. It's about time for some stupid thing to drive me to tears: I can feel them about to crest. Last time, it was age angst. I wonder what will do it this time?]

[As boss-man finished railing, and he and I were coming to some sort of "going forward" agreement (add going forward to that hated list of corporate-speak, along with thinking outside the box and on the same page), the sun came out from behind an Irvine tree. I was able to say, "Whew, it's getting hot. Let's go inside," thus ending the contretemps. So, today, I'm thankful for the heat, if nothing else.]

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