10-12-07b its 1027 quiet dark

... You have my respect, in fact, for holding that opinion so securely to yourself. A person who bends their opinions to match the shade of the room loses all dignity in my eyes. Kudos, two kudos, in fact, to you.

I wish that we still had such a pliable mass consciousness that even little ol’ me could bob to the top like a cork.

But our blind spots are bigger and deeper and white. Not black like the kind that suck you down to the ground. White. Like diesel fumes and heat waves on a flat Texas drive. Those kind of blind spots that make you taste puke.

How was your day? Did the responsibilities of your day leave you with enough time to sit down and eat?

I work in an office within a bigger office inside a building shared with another office divided up into smaller offices. Minimum wage is being increased so that those a bit less fortunate than me will be raised until they are equally unfortunate as me. God bless the world, and God bless me.

I have been employed by that office since May of this year. Now, it is October. One week until the 19th. The twins will be two.

May.

June.

July.

August.

September.

October.

One, two, three, four, five, six.

Six months.

“Good morning, Jim.”

“Good morning, Anthony.”

“Good morning, Kevin.”

“Good morning, Chandler Properties: This is Amie.”

I started working for Jim Chandler at the same time my mom stopped. It was also the same time Anthony started. We started working for Jim Chandler at the same time. May. Six months ago. Half a year.

The twins will be two next Friday.

They were eighteen months old when I started working for Jim Chandler, at the same time Anthony did.

Anthony got a brand new desk moved into the office and a new Dell computer because he was filling a brand new position. I got my mom’s desk and computer because I was filling the position she had filled for the past couple years while I filled the position she filled before that.

Before May, I managed a candy store at the corner of a one-mall town’s mall food court. I had never done anything like that before.

Work for my mom?

Oh, yeah. I’ve done that.

See, she finally left my dad after twenty-six or so years of marriage. She drove forty-five minutes in the rain with a couple of her things and most of her clothes wrapped in black trash bags until she got to my apartment where I had fixed her a little room. A tiny room, actually. Very, very small.

I felt guilty about that, but it looked really cute when I got done decorating it.

She had called me crying.

She lived in Bowie, and I lived in Wichita Falls.

In Texas, we reference distance in minutes it takes to drive. I’m forty-five minutes away. (Or, like I told my oldest son, Benjamin, Nanny will be here in forty-five minutes. That’s the same amount of time as watching a Blue’s Clues video without skipping the previews.) Now, my lingo is an inbred version of leftover Amie and leftover babies. She’ll be here in a Blue’s Clues plus previews.
“Country. Think about it…”

Lloyd Ashley would say that. Lloyd Ashley wouldn’t know my name if saying it would grant him a wish, and he damn sure wouldn’t know my face. But, I can quote him. Just like you can quote me.

Lloyd Ashley would end his sets with a cock-eyed, over the mike, good ol’ boy grin, and he’d say, “Country. Think about it…”

I like that.

So, I say it sometimes.