Stuck.

It was beautiful outside and what was I doing? Stuck. I was stuck inside all day working on a big assignment for work at a desk. A gloomy desk in the corner. I stared at the pages of The Pleasure of the Text, written by Roland Barthes sitting beside my keyboard. My eyes met the words, "“I am interested in language because it wounds or seduces me.” Yeah, you know what was seducing me? Definitely not this writing assignment, but this beautiful day shining through the giant glass window in front of me. This was not where I thought I would be or what I thought I would be doing five months ago. I could see the city, the people on the street enjoying this beautiful day in New York. Ok, focus. I stared at my computer, but no words came to mind. There was only one word that I could think of, stuck. I was stuck inside, while everyone was out, roaming the streets of the city and I was just stuck. 1 o'clock... 2 o'clock... 3 o'clock... tick tick tick. The clock was ticking but time was not moving. Was this day ever going to end? I thought of how he used to take me to Central Park on days like this with a cooler, two cups and a soccer ball. We would drink sangria and kick the ball around in the light of the beautiful day, just like we had done growing up. It looked like it could have been one of those days, but there was no way that was going to happen  because I was stuck. I was stuck inside and stuck alone, without him; and he was never coming back. 4 o'clock... 4:01...4:02.... "COME ON!" I accidentally said out loud. The intern turning the corner gave me a look. "Sorry..." I said. And stared at my computer. The only thing written on the screen was my name. 4:30... 4:40... 4:50... 5 O'CLOCK! I dashed out of the office, jumped on the elevator, and hit ground lever before the clock had time to hit 5:02. My hand pushed the door open and I had a huge smile on my face. And then, that smile faded. "My face was getting red, and heat is rising in my cheeks. It's so damn humid out and the mosquitoes were ravenous." So much for a beautiful day... I was once again stuck. Stuck in the sticky humid city... stuck without him... and stuck with the disappointment of the day.

http://cycenewriting.blogspot.com/2012/10/juggle-master.html