It used to be that slow and quiet moments at work were what I enjoyed the most during the day. Times when the orders slowed to a halt like trains winding their way down a gradient. Or when the space of time between the inbound trucks was perfectly long; a spread in time that seemed to allow for the reading of entire essays and the release of thoughts in the aftermath to wander along the paths opened up by the essay one had just read. Of course, these 'free' moments are no longer so refreshing.



The slow and quiet moments are almost oppressive now. I cannot concentrate on reading. I cannot let my thoughts wander too far for fear that they may be lost if (and definitely when) something intrudes itself into my attention and forces me to move on from where I had been moored. Each moment is surrounded on its edges by anxiety and impatience. Something is always lurking on the horizon. No spectres, no enemies. Just happenstance. The mundane. Certain realizations.