Surrounded by papers

Screen covered in unclosed windows

Two lines are on hold, 

As I listen to the cradled handset,

and people outside my door wait for me.

And all the work I've already finished

handed back to me

for no other reason

than

boxes don't line up perfectly.

the words aren't his.

the style isn't his.

and no one will read it anyway.

Her fingernails decorated

In boogers and shit pierced my skin

Her way of telling me that she

Wasn't set for morning meeting

Guess I will get more coffee then.

Ah, aren't Mondays so very fun?!