Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Frank & Mike & Don

My "things to write about" notebook has the following notation: Frank Gifford/Mike Napoli.

It is difficult for me to explain to you my thinking, short of actually writing, difficult to talk about the relationships in my mind.

Don't worry - you will hear about it at some point soon.

The situation has become complicated with the impending, temporary, professional demise of Don Orsillo.

Originally I was tempted to lump his situation in with the other two, but I can't do it.

Orsillo deserves his own Joe-rant, period. My emotions are turbulated, I am sad, I am disappointed, I am once again backed into the corporate america versus human beings stance that I love so dearly.

Because it makes sense. It is compelling. It is truth.

Corporate america will shred you, crucify you, eviscerate you, torture and break you for the sake of a buck or a personal agenda.

Luckily for you I have the next four days off. This will give me time to collect my thoughts and organize my words.

I randomly decided at the end of June to take these four days off because I can.

I work for the state, vacation hours accrue quickly, and I am determined to use them.

Very especially as this semi-summer wanes.

Every second I spend outside the walls of The Hell Hole I work in is a second of bliss. Of life.

When I am inside those hideous walls, my veins and arteries are actually exposed, ripped right through my skin.

My blood splashes all over the walls and into the faces of the faux-tee-totallers who buy buy buy.

"I don't even drink - this is for my husband. He can't get by without his precious whiskey."

I have four days to save my own life.

No pressure.

Anyway...................I will be talking to you about Frank Gifford/Mike Napoli.

And Don Orsillo.

Hang in there, cut me some slack, give me some breathing room, let me be me.

Tonight I am exhaling. Revelling in the anticipation of four days of peace, love and understanding.

Looking forward to the radically different existence I will hurtle into next Monday.

Life, baby. It is remarkably unpredictable.

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