From the Cubicle
Trapped in a cubicle, I wait out the time until unemployment.
All it took was one person saying honestly to me that there was a lot of competition for the new job and I had “some bad press.” If I cry at work people will look at me. The girl down the hall has just yesterday gotten a diagnosis of breast cancer. She’s arranging her surgery, at work, smiling – a little sadly but not crying and I feel like such a *censored*. I should just let go but I’m afraid of a big fall. Who would catch me? Ok, I’ll…