'cause others have work

The electronic lock on the office door whistles, turn the small silver knob, and the door unlocks. Press the handle and step in to the small room. the glass covered desk to the right and the white desk on the left. An old printer in the back right hand corner by the window, and that is it. A camera in a black plastic case, with a few lenses, and that is all.

Put the brown carry bag onto the window ledge at the back of the room, and the jacket over a chair. That is it, turn on the computer.
Those are the first rites every working day.
There are no messages on the computer.


Settle down to finish the work on the shield for the veterans society. It is private, for a colleague, but there is really nothing else to do.
This is the first time working with Illustrator in five years, it was necessary to start up an older computer to let it run. So much has been forgotten, it takes longer  than expected.

There was no need to come into work today, other than to be present.
Just being here
and feeling guilty, 'cause others have work.