Contributor: Kathy Coman
- -
It’s been eight agonizing hours and now the moment has finally arrived. All I can think of is getting home to my plush bed that my body has been crying for since the moment my alarm went off at 6:30 in the morning. My hand begins to shake with excitement as my pointer finger reaches for the mouse. With no direction needed to its location, the mouse quickly moves towards the shut down button on my computer screen. I feel energy gaining with each passing second, and then suddenly, “Your computer is unable to shut down at the moment, please wait for all of the programs to close.”
What?
I scan the screen trying to zero in on the target I need to annihilate so that I may relieve myself from this toxic environment called work. But when I look around my brain is coming back, “Target not in sight.”
More eager than before, my hand forces the mouse back over to the shut down button. My leg begins to shake as my eyes quickly glance to the time, 4:02 P.M., I could’ve been down to the first floor by this time, well that’s if I didn’t have to stop at any of the floors in between. Even if I did, I could’ve at least been on the elevator.
My mind wanders back to the shut down button and I click it.
Deep breaths and high hopes.
“Your computer is unable to shut down at the moment, please wait for all of the programs to close.”
“Oh my gosh!” my mind screams with anger.
Focus is what I tell myself as I scan the screen for any open programs. Not trusting my eyes completely, I use my finger to point my eyes from the top of the screen to the bottom.
“I don’t get it. Why are you doing this to me?”
I take deep, calming breaths and close my eyes. Trying to find an inner peace to get me to the point where I can officially windup my workday. Ignoring the clock I begin to try again.
Negative.
And again.
Negative.
Calm breaths are leaving as 4:15 approaches, anger erupts inside of me, as I did not agree to work overtime. I should’ve gone with my first notion of calling off this morning due to sickness, which is a lie. I spent last night flipping through memories with an old college friend. What should have been a night of dinner turned into a night of wine and laughter leaving me with only a hour and half of sleep. Now my body is crying with pains of tiredness.
I should’ve been on Main Street about to board I-90 but no, I’m stuck with a computer who believes that a non-existent program is keeping it awake. Well I don’t have time to rock it to sleep any longer. It is time to rock my body to sleep; time for me to be snuggled up under my plush mattress, holding my favorite pillow and easing myself into a deep sleep, the one that I neglected last night.
Index finger pointed to the sky as I smile at with evil intent. I forcefully push what IT refers to as the “sacred button” and the sweetest sound plays on my eardrums.
The melodic chords of a computer fading to black.
- - -
I received a Bachelor’s of English from the University of Toledo in 2008. My poetry has appeared in: A&U Magazine, Carty’s Poetry Journal, Blinking Cursor Literary Magazine, and others.
- -
It’s been eight agonizing hours and now the moment has finally arrived. All I can think of is getting home to my plush bed that my body has been crying for since the moment my alarm went off at 6:30 in the morning. My hand begins to shake with excitement as my pointer finger reaches for the mouse. With no direction needed to its location, the mouse quickly moves towards the shut down button on my computer screen. I feel energy gaining with each passing second, and then suddenly, “Your computer is unable to shut down at the moment, please wait for all of the programs to close.”
What?
I scan the screen trying to zero in on the target I need to annihilate so that I may relieve myself from this toxic environment called work. But when I look around my brain is coming back, “Target not in sight.”
More eager than before, my hand forces the mouse back over to the shut down button. My leg begins to shake as my eyes quickly glance to the time, 4:02 P.M., I could’ve been down to the first floor by this time, well that’s if I didn’t have to stop at any of the floors in between. Even if I did, I could’ve at least been on the elevator.
My mind wanders back to the shut down button and I click it.
Deep breaths and high hopes.
“Your computer is unable to shut down at the moment, please wait for all of the programs to close.”
“Oh my gosh!” my mind screams with anger.
Focus is what I tell myself as I scan the screen for any open programs. Not trusting my eyes completely, I use my finger to point my eyes from the top of the screen to the bottom.
“I don’t get it. Why are you doing this to me?”
I take deep, calming breaths and close my eyes. Trying to find an inner peace to get me to the point where I can officially windup my workday. Ignoring the clock I begin to try again.
Negative.
And again.
Negative.
Calm breaths are leaving as 4:15 approaches, anger erupts inside of me, as I did not agree to work overtime. I should’ve gone with my first notion of calling off this morning due to sickness, which is a lie. I spent last night flipping through memories with an old college friend. What should have been a night of dinner turned into a night of wine and laughter leaving me with only a hour and half of sleep. Now my body is crying with pains of tiredness.
I should’ve been on Main Street about to board I-90 but no, I’m stuck with a computer who believes that a non-existent program is keeping it awake. Well I don’t have time to rock it to sleep any longer. It is time to rock my body to sleep; time for me to be snuggled up under my plush mattress, holding my favorite pillow and easing myself into a deep sleep, the one that I neglected last night.
Index finger pointed to the sky as I smile at with evil intent. I forcefully push what IT refers to as the “sacred button” and the sweetest sound plays on my eardrums.
The melodic chords of a computer fading to black.
- - -
I received a Bachelor’s of English from the University of Toledo in 2008. My poetry has appeared in: A&U Magazine, Carty’s Poetry Journal, Blinking Cursor Literary Magazine, and others.
Author:
Kathy Coman
Leave a comment