My Worst Enemy

"Hello, this is Dwight Schrute calling from Dunder-Mifflin, and according to our records you appear to be low on office supplies."

My dad has a way of revitalizing and inspiring that few others do. Maybe it's the fact that he's normally so stoic, making his words that much more impactful when he does speak. Maybe it's because I love and respect him so much. Regardless, what he said this weekend hit home.

This morning I woke up, took a shower, threw on my work clothes, put up an away message, and then walked over to the dresser where I keep the day's effects. Today included:

-wallet
-glasses
-keys
-cell phone
-ID badge
-desk keys
-blistex
-iPod

... and there, sitting in the corner of the drawer, was a gray bracelet that said, "Support the Rabid." I put it on for the first time since the end of the schoolyear.

Of course my feelings haven't changed all that much, if at all. Of course I oscillate from day to day, hour to hour, often minute to minute. Of course writing this down is probably more for the purpose of convincing myself than for convincing anyone else. But there's a difference between living with those feelings and living while being trapped by those feelings. My dad helped me figure that out.

So for now?

Another day, another segue.