You’re gonna hate me for saying this but…
…went to the beach this morning!
Oh, and also got up at 8AM.
And I know where you are, my friends who are lost and still in my heart. You’re in a cold grey box, sitting looking at the dirty blue-clothed wall that separates your little workday world from your co-workers.
A storm passed by the island this weekend. Did the customers go nuts? Did fights erupt in the store? Old ladies attack each other with their canes over cans of salchichas?
You know, I don’t know. And really, I care only vaguely.
I’ve been freed, you see.
And I return bearing a message.
There is another reality, another world. And all will be well.
I know you’re dreading it. I know because I did it, both the dread and the subsequent reality. There’s something about hearing that your job position has been eliminated that fucks up the day….
Ever see a bird fly hard into a glass window?
From the other side comes this advice: write the email to all your friends and family immediately. That’s all you have to do—for the rest of the day.
Oh, and go buy a good bottle of champagne. You’re starting a new life.
You’ll have the weekend to figure out what to do on Monday morning. Here’s what you won’t do.
Flop onto the couch and turn on the TV.
Ditto the Internet.
I went to the beach, that Monday morning when Raf left the house and there were ten hours to fill with…
…what?
Well, that was the question, wasn’t it?
That’s when I learned how scary it was, to lose the chain. Yes, it keeps you from moving on. It also grounds you.
So don’t be scared—my message to you whom I saw so many Monday mornings, and then one Monday morning didn’t.
It will all be OK.
I’ve done it, you can too.
Don’t worry about it, as I did. When the people from the Home Office came, put me in a little room, and asked nicely, “Now, what is it exactly that you do?”
That I found disconcerting.
The email—how many students had I “given service” to?
Besides a little suggestive—given service indeed!—it seemed more like writing on the wall than email.
Look at these videos instead. Laugh! Relax! The day will come and they will free you!
And since it’s Monday morning, send this link to absolutely everyone you know!
Well, well—I promised you a chain letter, way up there in the title. So here goes:
BEWARE!
DO NOT BREAK THE CHAIN!!!!
You have until 11:59 PM today to send this link to EVERYONE!
Mary Elizabeth Scornfeld, age 23, laughed at this email and deleted it! At precisely 12:01 the next morning, she rolled out of bed and fractured her spine on a bowling ball she had stupidly left by the side of her bed. She remains at Dwindling Days Health Care Center in a permanent vegetative state. (Or maybe it’s Fading Light Nursing Home—anyway, she had it coming!)
Her sister, as well, received and deleted this email. Two weeks later, she took off for Venice, and was eating pasta at an outdoor café. Busy flirting with a hunky Italian guy, she didn’t notice the pigeon who flew overhead, and did what pigeons do. Well, I don’t need to tell you where it landed! She died an agonizing death and good for her! Serves her right.
Still not convinced?
How about rehab nurse May Ellen Shnittke, engaged in a little late-night lechery with her 300-pound paraplegic patient, whom she had gently placed on top of her! Well, he was doing what men do, when all of a sudden he stopped.
Dropped dead!
Then she realized—she was trapped!
And that’s what scared HER to death!
I could write more—but you got a task or two to do.
1. Watch the videos
2. Laugh
3. Send the link to EVERYONE you know
And…
DO NOT BREAK THE CHAIN!
