Ironic Misunderstanding

This happened half a year ago, at my old cubicle space:
---------------------------------------------------------
A coworker today said "I sometimes wonder if you only do this job to support your writing."

At most, he has seen me do two things:

   - open my blog: Adventures of the Mundane;

   - read Weinberg on Reading;

I don't know if he meant it kindly despite the implication, but the implication hurt - that I don't do the work I'm hired to do. It hurt even more, likely, because I don't actually take my urge to write seriously.

"Laaaame"

Volk: Friend #1, brainy PhD Student
mL: Friend #2, brainy PhD Student
mimB: Friend #3, Entry Level, graduated 2 years earlier, not attending a university

Spring 2011:
mimB:  BTW, what time do we meet?
Volk:  Probably closer to morning or evening is better. Or to the middle of the day. Haha. So, well, after 10am.
mimB: Are you always this... vague in the mornings?
Volk: 10:30 is good, for example.
mimB: lol, I'm undercover as a working adult. :) I don't get off work earlier than 5pm.
Volk: Lame. :p 5pm then?
mimB: What is that with you and brainy future PhD kids?
Volk: Working specific hours is overrated. :)

mimB: So, how about this Wednesday. I think I can make it work. Any preferences for plans?
mL: A walk. Or a hike.
mimB: What do you mean by "hike"?
mL: I mean the Billy Goat trail.
mimB: Because I'm still a regularly working person. Who doesn't really leave work until 5 or 6pm?
mL: Laaame.

Fall 2011:

mL: wait

mimB: ?

mL: You seriously only get a day off for Christmas and Thanksgiving?

mimB: Yes. That's what happens to the whole world :) ... Well, the industry.

mL: so like November 25th - you have to use a vacation day to get the day after Thanksgiving off?

mimB: Yes

mL: I thought everyone got that Friday off

mimB: Nope :D

mL: laaaame

He is old and regal, his thick beard and wisps of his hair bright silver, his back straight. He brags and muses and mentions his several PhD degrees, his extensive experience and hobbies, and dresses content in stories and jokes about wife and her fur coats. He's theorizing again; he is relaxed and kind and does not mention the budget and mentions "the business" with a benevolent condescension - and the audience understands that once again all is, if not well, then at least back to the usual at our company.
We all come to hear him, we all come to display out respect - to hope that when it's our turn to speak he will listen in turn.
He is wearing a dark olive shirt; it seems to throw a yellow sheen under direct light. It looks like he's wearing the moss of a forest. Did he get it on his own accord, or was it picked out for him by his wife? Did they shop together when her eye fell on it, and did she ask him to try it on, and did she smooth it out on his chest, on his shoulders? Does she remember their years together when she still cares for him, his smiling eyes drawing the network of laugh lines on his face?

How many ironed shirts on the shoulders of men mean the love of a wife?

All I can really think about as he gestures and speaks is what kind of a grandfather he must be.

Back to posting

Not fresh, but written recently:

С добрым утром, природа -
Ты туманна и сонна.
В голове непогода,
И всю ночь шли дожди.
Натянув с горизонта
Облаков одеяло,
Умываясь росою,
Все гостишь у тоски.

А я встану с зарёю,
Протяну к тебе руки.
Отбрыкнувши усталость,
Окунусь в твою тишь.
Потянусь до серёжек
Любимой берёзы,
Улыбнусь оленёнку -
"Ты тоже не спишь?"

Ты наполнишь ветрами
Мой жизненный парус,
Своим влажным дыханьем
Обнимешь меня.
И слизнув капли силы
С игл матовых сосен,
Я раскроюсь к приходу
Грядущего дня.

A bit on our natural image

The man without his left arm leans into the back of his chair as if it's an extension of his torso. Often, the chair is his shoulder, the weight of his whole side supported. Sometimes, it is merely a grip, positioned to prevent from falling. Rarely, it is a cradle, spooning him across and sideways, and it cannot be a comfortable position for any but him. And never is the chair's back an actual back into which he reclines.