Four Corners

I never thought I would find myself lusting after a cubicle, but when I visited my Friend at his job in an office building downtown I almost wanted to cry or explode with yearning when I saw a view of the New York City Skyline. The quiet solitude of the cube made me want to give up my dayjob right then. There were no children. No screaming. No pressure that if I fail, a human being was going to either end up in jail, on the streets, or dead.

It's my daily burden. And in that comfortable, half-enclosed piece of solace I wanted to sit, just I would have a bit more security. It's a rather difficult feeling considering I'm always talking about how much I love my kids, but when ever the senior, tenured teachers tell me about their real hope for these kids my heart breaks a bit.

Some of their hopes aren't for the kids to go off and be the next big-time multimillionaire. Their purpose for teaching is that the kids--our students--will be a little kinder to someone when they're on the streets doing violent or illicit things that they have to in order to survive. The general consensus is that they won't make it. And with many of them failing Regents Exams and being placed in all sorts of categories it's difficult to keep my spirit strong against things like that.

In that cube there were no responsibilities that you had to take up because someone that claimed to love their progeny, a parent, didn't really give two shits about what happened to their seed when they let them out the house that morning. In the cube I could quietly make more than I do now and still have my piece of my mind when I go home.

Everytime someone tells me how much they make I'm slightly pissed and more so befuddled that their worth can be higher than mine on a socioeconomic level. And I have all this stress and they can cruise along, no problem. Maybe I will see about getting this basic 9 to 5 in the Fall because I swear this cube is unfairly mocking me each time I go to visit those bushi people who are I swore I'd never join.