Unconnected

She finds herself standing in front of the open refrigerator, alone, staring longingly at the Margarita mix that rests in the door. Is it too early? she thinks, and glances at the clock. 7:35 a.m. That answers her question. She shuts the door and putters out of the room, onto a task that needs to be done, and tries to shake the want, the need from her mind.

Miscommunication is a big problem, despite the technology that exists to help with communication. We're overrun with ways to get in contact with each other and when we do, it still doesn't mean that one person will understand exactly what we're trying to say.



Rain or snow? It's December, and she watches the frigid droplets of rain as they trail down the side of the house and puddle on the driveway. The scene is almost too much to take on a day when she's got five children at home and a cake to bake for the office. She roots around in her cabinet, fingers flailing in the dark, and comes up with the jackpot: her old package of Camel Lights and a pack of matches.



Being a promoter is easy, if you believe in what you promote. But what if the people you promote don't reciprocate? Should you renege on your nonverbal commitment to promote for them? Or should you, in the spirit of giving, just continue to help them make their way? Thoughts like these filled her head as she maneuvered her Ford truck down the lane and pulled over to the side of the road. Finding her business card amongst the trash that littered her passenger seat, she tucked her hair behind her ear and readied her spiel. She had a long day of schmoozing ahead of her.



(Full disclosure: I couldn't find copyright info for any of these images. But I'm not using them to make money, so I think we're okay.)

Comments

T said…
If we lived closer I would show up with a beverage right now. It's 5pm somewhere eh? Or at least coffee. Yeah, coffee sounds good.
Christina said…
Hope you enjoyed your coffee. I enjoyed mine. I don't have any Margarita mix in my fridge, by the way.

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