Work 10: officeSPACE

There are days toward the end of my contract where all I ask of my job is to sit at my desk and study the limits of staring into time and space. No matter how productive the staring may be, the limits are generally introduced by coworkers. It is possible that staring can be part of the job, but it is difficult to identify as such. In the afternoon I can occupy my desk but not the time. There are three hours between 2 and 5pm. I have a watch on my wrist, a phone in my pocket, and a clock on the wall. All of which I use to observe time. I check them on rotation in hopes of a different reading. I sit next to a sink with a metronome drip. Instead of keeping time it stretches the moment. My understanding of time goes only as far as I can hold my breath. Anything greater is abstract. With an acute absence of task I look around. I look at something near. I look at something far. I look at something near and focus far. I stare. My eyes open and unengaged. I retreat into my mind and call up something easier to dissect. Something with balance. A moment already passed. This one’s too tough.

This piece was written in my journal during the dreaded 2-5pm stretch, struggling to stay awake and sensible at my work desk. It does not help that I am constantly surrounded by busy people, but I myself am not given any work to do. My job is to be present and available, but unused. Often, journaling is the best I can do with it.