It’s Monday so the lobby of the hovel where I work is getting its dose of polish. The floor looks squeaky clean, shiny in most parts till of course the thousands of feet scuff it and walk all over it, heaping the muck of the real world onto its shiny surface.
I was once again besieged by ridiculousness as I sat down for my daily 9 meeting. Sometimes I think they speak in riddles that I am not supposed or allowed to decipher yet, because I am obviously of lowly rank, with a lower IQ then the ones who graduated abroad with marbles in their mouths – perhaps one day I will be fortunate enough to understand their speak.
A call from my mum tells me that Aunty A whom I have known forever has passed away in her house and no one knew that she had passed on as she lived alone. She had no relatives. No family. My mum is there with other ladies from the church, sorting out the details and things. It’s a shock to us all. Aunty A was a strong women, who had a powerful body smell, a white car which she drove even though she is more than 3 times my age, a neat house and garden near my home, and a head of curly white hair. I hate that everything is in the past tense. I told Cat about it and she is as shocked as I am. It’s sad. Death. The ending of ones life. So sudden. The could haves and should haves which are thought of too late. The last chapter of ones life. The end.
Things then… like ridiculous riddles, feeling small and invisible at meetings and in life in general, getting told that what you do is never enough, getting annoyed with the broadband for being slow, squeaky clean floors, buttons that will just not button properly, marbles in mouths, heavy boxes that need to be lifted, hunger for a mouthful or flourless orange cake and a steaming cup of tea, all seem trivial in the face of death. For in this horrendous gaping empty void of death, there are no more of these things… just nothingness, a void and in the end of that long tunnel, a Heaven where these things that are stressed and worried about now are of no worth or value.
I should be doing more today - my accounts, my filing, my press releases and media interviews… but these things are far from meaningful. They are useless to me at this point in time. I went to the toilet again today - it has recently become my thinking ground, my escape from the stresses of the office of late - just sat there on the porcelain throne for awhile thinking about these emotions that once again course through my veins… and for awhile although confused, sad, angry, torn and all that jazz, I think that its not so bad after all. I am thankful that I can feel these things and that I am alive for one more day.