warm ups

in a nyquil-induced stupor i bolted straight up in bed at the ringing of a phone, discovering i was 3 minutes late for an 11am meeting. only a minute later i showed up on zoom, camera on and wondering why the hell i turned the camera on. it was too late so i hoped my fake background of butterflies flying around my head would be distracting enough not to realize it was day of the dead.

it seemed too early to be discussing pareto’s principal and the takeaways of listening to ‘the trusted advisor’ audiobook. it felt like midnight and that i might be sleepwalking myself into a tim conway episode of the merv griffin show, a thought which led me to wonder if apple dumplings were better than chicken dumplings. my grandma made the best chicken dumplings in the world. course i never ate anyone else’s chicken dumplings to test the truth of that statement. her peach cobbler though was the most amazing thing ever. looking back i have a sense it was likely eighty percent butter, which led me back to pareto.

did he just ask me if i knew what pareto’s law was?

for a split second almost said yes but then remembered when you say yes some people ask you to prove it by defining it and i didn’t know if he was one of those kinds of jerks so i said no cause sometimes you can also learn something about what you thought you knew. i didn’t learn anything cause my cat started coughing up a hairball and i was busy muting myself and attempting not to turn around in horror at the mess she was making which equated to zero empathy which led me to wonder if i was an asshole while at the same time wondering where i’d left the bleach bottle.

silence. the glaze from my eyes left and he was staring at me so i did what i always do in those situations. unmuted and told him it was all very interesting and that i appreciated his insight. that’s all he wanted. a little stroking. if i’m good at anything – it’s stroking.

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