Planning the escape

I sat in an hour long meeting yesterday and I found myself day dreaming. It wasn’t that the discussion wasn’t interesting. It was, actually. The meeting was about a very complex, challenging project. But, nevertheless, I was daydreaming. My eyes grew heavy despite my two cups of hazelnut coffee and I somehow got a case of the Yawns. My head was tilted—as if pulled by string, puppet-like in nature—towards the window and my eyes scanned the Santa Monica mountains. It was a gorgeous, unusually clear day.

My VP’s voice droned on and became a white noise to my imagination.

We then moved to an office next door and continued our discussion, only this time standing. This made it harder for me to drift off as I had to concentrate on standing upright and looking like I was interested. I found a mini fridge to lean against and I plopped my butt right down. The support of the fridge helped but not enough. At some point, my back started to hurt and I stopped gazing so much at the mountains and thought about new jeans I wanted to buy. I thought about weekend plans. I thought about tomato soup and the beach and lovely naps on a Sunday afternoon. I thought about red wine.

I thought, Screw this.

I dream for things beyond the corporate world and quite frankly, I don’t give a poop about my industry. We may be in an economic slump, but I’m on a motivational high. A motivational high and long-term day dream to be my own boss and to zone out the Equation, the fizz of the white noise of BS.

So while I occasionally open up a blank word doc at work to write and lay structure to my thoughts, perhaps I’ll be writing less and researching more. Maybe I’ll be working my way through less beach reads at home and more business strategy books.

Because there won’t always be a mini fridge to hold up my fat ass when I get bored at work.