“If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, what about an empty table?”
Her son had been the first one to greet her walking through the front gate.
Always bubbly. He was enjoying the home time right now. It was one of her favorite moments.
Shed spent the last half an hour eating sago, a staple throughout the low lands of the country. It’s tough starchy taste kept her mouth in motion as her hands flashed across the screen of her phone.
The buai was wearing off. And there was an air of drowsiness.
She was tired. Emotionally.
On no more that 20 occasions had she been asked about her doctor.
It was getting tedious. That long awaited transfer to Human Resources.
5 years stuck in this place. And all I’m moving is sideways.
She shrugged it off. Thinking this way won’t benefit me at all.
It’s a positive.
She stood. Looking at the partially white walls of her room.
I need paint. Maybe purple… better than the dirty white I’m looking at.
But then I’d need to buy paint. And a brush. And a paint bin.
And sandpaper, primer and a whole host of things I can’t afford.
Dammit… I’m over thinking again she thought.
Nothing I can afford right now.
Still. Moving from one job to the new one will help me get one step closer to where I hope one day to be.
She stood. Stretched. There was that ache in her shoulder from the night before. She pulled at her arm again. I’ll be fine.
I always am in situations like this