I've been in the mood to write.

I find myself writing on scraps of paper at work. On post-its and the backs of directions for programs I should probably keep or laminate. I find myself wishing for the less restrictive world of teaching, of academia. Wishing I had been MFA so I could have one more year. Except that I would still be done now, I suppose. I ping pong back and forth between liking the idea of wearing pin stripe pants and a badge with my picture around my neck, listening to the beep of doors unlocking. I like to take long strides to the mailroom, the breakroom, the bathroom. Anything to get me out of my cube. Othertimes I like that cube. I think how much better it will be when I put up pictures of the boy, my niece, my dogs. Now I stare at countless pictures of the toddler of the woman whose desk I sit at. In one she's smiling and waving to the photographer. In another she's hugging a Pooh Bear.

I got my journal out last night, wrote two sentences, and tucked it away. Again, there was that need to write. But it seemed like nothing fit in the journal. I couldn't decide how I felt, what to focus the entry on. For the same reason I've avoided blogging. I'm not sure how to address things, understand the things that come along with my entry into "the real world." I'm sure I've talked about this before. How every time something terrible happened and I told my dad, he'd reply "Welcome to the real world." My brothers got the same response to their problems. I started to worry that the real world was full of nothing but problems. Maybe that's why I stayed in school for so long, why I still long to be in school. The problems there seemed temporary, kinetic. If I had a problem with the teacher or the workload, I could drop the class. If I wanted to watch The Newlyweds marathons and Behind the Musics, my statistics homework got pushed to the side. (Fact check: The Newlyweds wasn't actually a show during the time I was taking statistics, but really isn't that really just a metaphor for any thoughtless show now?)

I was talking to JP, debating whether her life would have been better had she taken the cubicle job last fall instead of the teaching job. No doubt it would have been different. But better? Mabye people like her and me are not meant to be in cubicles. We should be roaming free through the midwestern grasslands or, at the very least, at least Pier One mid-afternoon. But for now I take my cube job. It pays almost enough to cover my student loans.

Sidenote: Yesterday, while shuffling through piles of cooperative agent marketing accounts (yep, that's what I do), two very excited middle-aged ladies came to see me. One had a coffee mug filled with Jolly Ranchers. The other handed me a certificate bordered in stars. Apparently I was name Elite Employee of the Month at Jeane Thorne (take that Chadley!). I was also presented with a $10 gift certificate to Cub Foods or Barnes and Noble, my choice. Then the ladies stood for a good three minutes smiling at me. In all honesty, though, it felt pretty good. I walked around the office offering Jolly Ranchers, hoping they would bring friendship or at least a quick "thanks." I only wish it meant a raise. Wouldn't that be nice?

I shouldn't blog when I'm this tired. I hope this makes sense in the morning.