Divergence

Not the archetypal film about man versus bear.

Not the Robert Frost poem about two roads.

Instead, a token fell out of a drawer today from the precise moment my soul diverged and stretched between the tech world where my body sits and the natural world where my heart sits.  This little strip features my alter-ego Sheldon who was born when I was in middle school and his younger sister Lucy, as well as something resembling a mouse that is supposedly a dog.

Nearly 30 years ago, I was fresh out of college and a year into two years of editing library catalog cards on giant IBM printouts (I saw white and green stripes in my sleep) for a major publishing company.  Can you imagine anything more mind numbing than editing library catalog cards in a warehouse of 75 editor desks minus cubicle walls?  Lots of wondering if a coworker notices you have kale in your teeth after lunch or windblown hair after a break.  Even Dilbert had cubicle walls.  Then again, what else are a gaggle of people with English degrees supposed to do before the internet and the PC?

We had no dress code, so every time “The Suits” paid a surprise visit, staff from the actual Library of Congress in DC, our spines got a bit straighter and we thought extra hard and long about changing a comma to a semi-colon. Those were the days.

After 30 years sitting in front of a computer, I wish I understood higher math so I could go frolic in a divergenceless field.

About Erin W

A sensitive plant, bamboo strong.
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