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Thursday, May 30, 2002

Journal
Walked over to the little woods last evening, just before dark. The killdeer was gone--no trace of the bird, the eggs, or the nest. I had read that killdeer babies leave the nest almost immediately, so I'll hope that's what happened....

Cloudy but warm. The warmth makes the cloudiness a little more tolerable but still, we long for the sun. Might rain or thunderstorm.

Ceremony at Ground Zero this morning. I watched some of it...very sad. Silent. What is there to say?

Quote
If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them. -- Henry David Thoreau

Thoreau said a lot of good stuff; he must have had a lot of time to think. Quotes from my head would be something like, "I have to buy cat litter today at the store" -- C.D.

Link
It's amazing how many quotations sites there are online. The Quotations Page (http://www.quotationspage.com/) is a good one. Everyone seems to like good quotes!

Another Quote
That quote was pretty motivating but heavy, I feel like lightening up:

Neurotics build castles in the air, psychotics live in them. My mother cleans them. -- Rita Rudner

Just Classic

No Worst, There Is None by: Gerard Manley Hopkins


No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief,
More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring.
Comforter, where, where is your comforting?
Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?
My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief{\-}
Woe, w{'o}rld-sorrow; on an {'a}ge-old {'a}nvil w{'i}nce and s{'i}ng --

Then lull, then leave off. Fury had shrieked "No ling-
Ering! Let me be fell: force I must be brief."

O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap
May who ne'er hung there. Nor does long our small
Durance deal with that steep or deep. Here! creep,
Wretch, under a comfort serves in a whirlwind: all
Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.

Work in Progess, Sixteh Draft

Still working.

[Working Title] Twenty-three More Days


Not that I'm counting, no --
I just happened to reailize that
In twenty-three days, he's gone --
Retired, quit, out the door, good-bye.
It can't come too soon for either of us,
Albeit for different reasons.

He's not been a good boss,
Really. What he says is
Not always what he means,
Or what he's thinking.
He kind of tells you
What you want to hear
At the moment. Then hits you
With the the truth
When you least expect it.

Sadly, I don't think he's ever liked
His job. He's bored, for one, and full of
Resentment--too many people
Promoted over his head.
The thirty-odd years he's
Worked here hang heavy on him,
And he's ready to be gone.

While it's hard to feel sympathy
For one who's given me
So many bad moments,
Still I try. It must be hard
To work at a job you
Really don't like, and
Not truly understand why
You don't get the promotion,
The accolades, the satisfaction
Of succeeding.

Perhaps I should have
Removed myself from the situation.
But I kept perservering; I'd think,
"This too shall pass." As
It has. But I wonder,
And time will tell,
How much lasting damage
Was done.

But in twenty-three days he is
An empty parking spot, a
Cleaned-out filing cabinet, a
Now-quiet corner of the office.
Perhaps he will find peace.
As, hopefully, will I.

Copyright © 2002 Cathy A. Dee, all rights reserved, no matter how bad it is. It may be getting there!

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