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Thursday, September 11, 2008


I find that I have come to hate my job. I know it is terribly negative to feel this way, and I try to be positive about it. The fact is that it has turned into a very negative environment at work: clients are forever complaining, the factory staff are not interested in producing speedy, high quality work and, worst of all, the management team consists of stupid, uncooperative and unfriendly people. Sometimes it feels as though only the negative facets of things are concentrated on; no compliments or praise ever seems to be touched upon.

It is in this depressed state that I stare out of the window at work. Outside, spring has started, unaware of the dark and oppressive atmosphere in here. I realize that the days have begun stretching almost unnoticeably and that the nights have become more temperate; the days are actually becoming quite hot. Sadly, the rains have not returned yet and everything seems to be covered in a powdery grey dust.

My eye catches a shard of colour against this subdued background. It is a lone flower on one of the trees that grows bravely on the sidewalk in front of the office. This flower is extraordinary in that it sprouts from the bark almost at the base of the tree. I can just see it from the window in front of my desk, and it fills me with a passion that I have forgotten: it is the strange feeling of joy, of new beginnings, of hope.

Over the next days the flower is joined by a few others, all of them glimmering brightly at the base of the dusty tree. It feels as though these flowers have been put there so that when I feel despondent, I can simply turn my head to look at them and feel rejuvenated once more.

I find that I am horrified at the thought of a passing child picking the flowers; of a car grazing the tree, smashing the flowers against the rough, grey bark.

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