(Sung to the tune of Boy Named Sue)

I stand in my tent watching the dust swirl ’round

My now-lighter feet planted firmly on the ground

Glad to have been chosen as one of the strong

Where it once was bleak, the future seems bright

(Even though the sun puts out a lot less light)

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to a world gone wrong

Well it started out slowly enough

A few infections, but hey - we’re tough

We thought the bug just couldn’t last that long

But combined with the heat, and all of the trash

We as a species just couldn’t last

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to a world gone wrong

They announced they were looking for “volunteers”

So I showed up with some rusty kitchen shears

Prepared to fight for my place, I joined the throng

Well it turned out it was just an interview

I put on a smile, and sailed right on through

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to a world gone wrong

After 9 dull months we finally touched down

Got out of the ship, and looked around

A list of things to do a mile long

No time to walk, we just plain ran

To bend this new planet to the will of man

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to a world gone wrong

As I look at our “town” after a couple of days

I just can’t help but be amazed

What man can do when he meets a challenge head on

The engines of progress everywhere

On a landscape that was totally bare

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to a world gone wrong

But the strangest thing I ever did see

Is our old planet in the sky, still pretty as can be

They told us Earth’s demise couldn’t be prolonged

But as I look at Her through my magnifying glass

I swear, I see new trees and grass

And I have to wonder - if we weren't the plague all along

***

Well, we can’t go back, we must stay here

So I guess I have to swallow my fear

And acknowledge that we really got it wrong

Out here on Mars we have another chance

To participate in Mother Nature’s dance

And say “hello” to a better world, where we all belong

Alan, 46:

Ping. The unread email icon changes from 58, to 59.

I glance up to see if it’s important. We have our monthly meeting with upper management later this afternoon, and I’ve got so much on my plate to get done before then. Sometimes I feel like I get 2 hours a day to do my job, and 8 hours a day to do everyone else’s job. Busy, busy, all the time.

The email is from a vendor on one of my projects, submitting his proposal for review. I skim the email and his proposal; everything looks good. My assistant manager can send this off to the client. Wait - the vendor is asking if the client wants samples. Does my assistant know how to handle samples? I’ll call her to check while it’s on my mind. I find making quick phone calls throughout the day keeps me from forgetting important tasks.

No answer.

I don’t want to forget about this, and I need more coffee anyway, so I’ll just stop by her office on my way to the breakroom.

My new assistant manager and I have only been working together for a couple of weeks, but I think it will be a great partnership. We compliment each other well - she is very organized and detail oriented, and I am more focused on relationship building and the big picture. She is eager to learn, which is something you don’t see in many young people anymore. Still somewhat inexperienced, but I’ve been doing this job for 20 years, and I love teaching, so I can show her the ropes.

I can see her at her desk - weird that she didn’t answer the phone. Must be accidentally silenced. She greets me with a friendly smile as I knock.

“Good morning, how are you?”

“Hey, I called you a little while ago, I didn’t know if you heard it so I figured I’d just come down and see if you were here.” I don’t want to make her feel bad that she didn’t answer, but maybe she didn’t know her phone was silenced. I don’t want her to miss an important call.

As she starts to apologize, I find my mind wandering to my enormous to-do list. Why does upper management give so much to me, and not to the other managers? Maybe I should take it as a compliment; it must mean they think I can handle it.

She’s finished talking, and I realize I’m not really sure what she said. Oops. “Cool, hey, I just wanted to see if you saw that email from one of our vendors.”

“Yes, I saw it. Like I said, I am working on-”

I really need to get back to my desk, so I interrupt. “Cool, yeah, so I already reviewed it. It looks fine. You can just send it out. Also, on those samples, I would look through the contract to see if it says anything, and if it doesn’t, I would ask the client.”

Her eyes go wide in surprise. Good thing I came down here to check; it doesn’t look like she’s seen this situation before. I don’t want to embarrass her or make her feel stupid, so I continue, “sometimes even though it’s not in the contract, the client will still want to see samples, so it’s always a good idea to double check.”

I see a light bulb go off. “Yes, I’ve had a lot of clients do that on my previous projects. I’ll make a note, thanks for the reminder.”

It appears my advice has jogged her memory of a previous situation. Awesome. I like to think of myself more as a mentor than a boss; I prefer to teach through examples and help people make connections, instead of just telling them what to do.

“Great, thanks” - my monster task list crosses my mind again - “also don’t forget we have our review meeting at 2:30 with upper management. I still need to finish my monthly report for that. I guess I better go finish it up.”

“Yeah, they’ll have your head if it’s not done!” she laughs, “don’t worry about the proposals, I will take care of them.”

I smile and close the door. I think we’re going to work really well together.

Now, on to getting that coffee.

***

Sofia, 27:

The blaring phone ring yanks me from my concentration and brings me firmly back to reality. I’ve taken on a project in another department - the department I hope to transfer to - and I haven’t felt this engaged in my work in months. The phone call is a very unwanted disruption from my flow. I take an exasperated glance at the caller ID.

It’s my current manager. Again. Why is he always calling?

Most young professionals would pick up the phone, but I am trying hard to not be most young professionals. I’ve been at this company for three years now, and I’ve read enough productivity and self-help books to know that this phone call probably falls into the “urgent but not important” category of work; the kinds of things that make you feel busy, but keep you from actually achieving deep, meaningful results. I silence the call, take a deep breath to combat the irritation, and try to get back to the project that will actually advance my career. I suppose I should have silenced my phone when I got to the office this morning.

Not five minutes later, there’s a knock on my door. Never mind that it is closed, and a closed door is typically an implied “do not disturb” sign. Unfortunately, it’s a glass door, so I can’t pretend to not be at home.

To nobody’s surprise, it’s my current manager.

I say “current” because managers (him) and assistant managers (me) get rotated around based on projects. We’ve both been here for several years, but this is our first time actually working together. It’s only been a few weeks, but I can already tell we’re going to have a hard time. At least - I’m going to have a hard time.

Another deep breath, an insincere smile, and I pull the door open. “Good morning, how are you?”

“Hey,” he says, crossing the threshold into my office to lean casually on the filing cabinet. “I called you a little while ago, I didn’t know if you heard it so I figured I’d just come down and see if you were here.”

Of course he did.

How can I tell him I chose not to answer, without actually saying, “I chose not to answer?”

“Oh yeah, sorry-” wait, why am I apologizing? - “I’m working on this really cool project and totally got caught up in it.”

It’s like he doesn’t even hear me.

“Cool, hey, I just wanted to see if you saw that email from one of our vendors.”

Confirmed - urgent but not important. Our vendor submitted his proposal less than half an hour ago, and I need to review it and send it to our client for approval. The vendor asked if he needed to send samples; I read the contract yesterday and didn’t see anything about samples, but I’ll ask the client just in case. This is on my list for after lunch, along with a few other proposals we’ve gotten. Given that we don’t need this product for another 6 weeks, and it’s relatively uncomplicated, it doesn’t seem like this review needs to be done right this second.

“Yes, I saw it. Like I said, I am working on -”

Again, even though we are face to face, I seem to be on mute.

“Cool, yeah, so I already reviewed it. It looks fine. You can just send it out. Also, on those samples, I would check the contract to see if it says anything, and if it doesn’t, I would ask the client.”

I find my mouth has come slightly agape. I quickly close it.

I’ve been in this job for three years. I just came from the team that successfully delivered the largest project our company has ever done. I am a firm believer that there is always more to learn and always ways to improve - but it should be obvious I know how to do the fundamentals of my job. I do not need to be told to check the contract and ask the client about samples. And I definitely do not need to be interrupted twice about it.

He carries on, “sometimes even though it’s not in the contract, the client will still want to see samples, so it’s always a good idea to double check.”

Is there a polite way to say “yeah, I fucking know, what do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”

Instead I settle for a polite-but-firm “yes, I’ve had a lot of clients do that on my previous projects. I’ll make a note, thanks for the reminder.” Shit, why did I thank him? Nothing about this requires my gratitude.

“Great, thanks, also don’t forget we have our review meeting at 2:30 with upper management.”

It’s been on my calendar for a week already.

He continues, to no one in particular. “I still need to finish my monthly report for that. I guess I better go finish it up.”

Since I’m not a manager, I can’t say for certain, but I’m pretty sure the monthly report was due last week. How is he finding time to review my proposals for me, but not finding time for his critical deliverable?

I laugh to ease the tension. Another thing I find myself and other women doing far too often. “Yeah, they’ll have your head if it’s not done! Don’t worry about the proposals, I will take care of them.”

He finally leaves and closes the door. Fifteen minutes have gone by. And for what?

I silence my phone, and return to my project.

There we are, lying in bed. Day 46 of quarantine. Night 2 of going to sleep with an empty blanket at the foot of the bed. Three days ago, we were going for walks and teaching tricks to our beloved nine year old dog. Then suddenly, we were at the vet, kissing her goodbye for the last time. Now, the world was rent in two.

“All I want,” my husband moans, “is to go for a swim. To take a break from being sad. Remember when we would go swim three days a week? Now instead of the Freshman Fifteen, we’re working our way toward the Covid Nineteen, am I right?”

I try to laugh, and put my tear-stained face close to his. “I know. It hurts so bad. Our stationary bike isn’t making it better, either.” An idea springs forward in my mind. “I wish they made a stationary pool.”

“A what?”

“A stationary pool? Like a treadmill, but a pool. It would have a current, and you could just swim against it. Wouldn’t need to be all that big. Why don’t they make those?”

“Actually, they might.”

“How much do you think something like that would cost?”

Mike reaches for his phone on the nightstand, and a quick search reveals something called an Endless Pool for sale for $4,595.

Uh oh.

$4,595 is a lot of money, but not so much money as to be totally out of the question. If we wanted to make an Endless Pool happen, we could make it happen. What began as a ridiculous, just-for-fun internet search has suddenly become a much more serious conversation than either of us were planning to have. The Endless Pool is actually within reach.

Through the darkness, I feel myself making what we call, the Grocery Store Face. The Grocery Store Face is timeless. All around the world, since the dawn of time, couples have both wielded and fought against the Grocery Store Face. At supermarkets, garage sales, boat shows, petting zoos, Costco, and Home Depot, the Grocery Store Face can be found: it’s not on the list, but now that I’ve seen it, I just have to have it - and you’d be a monster to deny me this happiness.

Mike is wise to me. “Grocery Store Face?”

We poke around some more, and come to the Endless Pool Swim Machine website. Image after image of beautiful people and beautiful pools flood the phone. We view the three different models: E500, E700, and E2000. The E2000 model is a 20’ long vessel that is part pool, part hot tub. Obviously, we’d like that one, but we decide to research the mid-grade model instead. We are practical people, after all.

That there is no pricing on the website does not concern us. The promotional videos are full of gorgeous people in palatial homes, but we don’t care. They glide across their sweeping lawns towards their Endless Pool for a sunset swim. Our lawn is anything but sweeping - and looks to be made of broom bristles - but these are trivial matters.

We watch a few more videos. We watch some independent reviews on Youtube. We browse the optional accessories. Where would we put our Endless Pool? We’d need to pour a concrete pad in the yard, and probably have to crane it over the house. Good thing we both work in construction - Mike can get the concrete for cheap, and I can work my contacts for a crane rental. The HOA would probably have to sign off, but that’s a minor detail, and our neighbor down the street is the president. Does the pool subcontractor from my last project distribute Endless Pools? I make a mental note to call him tomorrow and check. All told, we’d probably be in it about $6,500. If we moved some things around in our savings, we could have our pool in two months.

As we read about the ordering process, 45 minutes into this research project, a shadow briefly crosses my mind. It’s too complex for a $5,000 purchase. Something doesn’t seem quite right. Something seems amiss.

“Which model did we see for sale?” I ask. “Can you go back to that very first page?”

Mike has a hard time finding the Endless Pool for sale. The shadow in my mind grows. Finally, he finds it again.

“Here it is - $4,595. Do you see a model number anywhere? I can’t tell from the picture.”

I study the listing, and I see what I had missed before. The shadow swells, swallows me whole, and my dreams are crushed upon the rocks as waves of disappointment, embarrassment, and hilarity crash overhead. Of course we're not getting an Endless Pool. How could we have been so naive? There is nothing to do but laugh.

“Mike - we’re idiots. The listing isn’t for the pool itself. The listing is only for the cover.”