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Pilon by James Printer Friendly

At the company I work for, a lot of the people's whose products we sell, they often give us free chtozki sort of things. You know, cups, pens, shirts, reverse hourglass type things where unmixable liquids of two different colors have a blue more noticable liquid rising to the surface instead of falling like most hourglasses, and on the side it says "See your profits rise" or something. I read recently that the word people in the area of the country I live in use is 'pilon'. I have never heard anyone use it before, but it is in the dictionary. I am tempted to start using that word, because I really don't know how to spell chotsky, and its one of those words that, if you can't spell it, it's really hard to look up and find the right spelling of. Still, I find myself feeling mistrustful of the whole 'pilon' situation.

But whenever we get these things, I always take them home and either throw them away or use them and incorporate them into the cycle of my things. I put the pens with the rest of my writing utensils, usually wear the shirts to paint in (like a rag that also serves to cover nudity), and give my kids the weird useless 'shiny things'(i.e.: a bizarre-o hourglass) to mix into the strange assortment of playthings my kids are apt to collect.

At any rate, all these things, they get incorporated into my consciousness as parts of the household objects, part of my personal effects, you may say. The key word here is personal. I think of these things as stuff I have acquired, as part of the porous boundaries of my individuality.

Which is why it is so jarring for me when I am constantly confronted with all these things as work. See, in my mind, I quickly forget the origin of these objects; their significance to me lies in their adjacent relationship, again, to me. Yet, a lot of people never take these things home. The bald sales rep, he drinks out of that big red cup the antivirus company gave us, and which I used like a sumnabitch until I dropped and broke it while throwing it in the air-- at home.

Or the hourglass thing on the purchasing agents desk -- I pick that off the floor of my kids room every other day, and turn it over and mindlessly watch it while sitting on their floor and not thinking for just a few minutes.

So the thing of it is, this is like an unwelcome mnemonic bridge constantly shaking my mind up while I am trying to work. I mean, there is work me and non-work me. I am fairly certain that, even though I generally think about similar things and listen to music and feel fairly similar identity wise as I do outside of work, that a completely different brain-zone activity map is going on from 9-5. And then, when some guy is wearing my shirt or something (a quick note, I never wear the clothes I get from the office to the office, while everyone else does) the non-work brain map arises like Lazarus, all sudden and premature and just for a second, and I can actually feel my sense of time change to non-work rate for a few moments. I think my perception of the lighting changes some to -- not too sure on that one though.


Comments:
Entered By Trey From Cowtown
2009-04-01 03:36:35

James, you might have noticed that, due to the fact that our super cheap webhost is in Iceland or something, your story is posted as April 1st even though you posted it on the 31st. You want me to move it over on to the new April issue? Or did you want to leave it hidden at the end of March?


Entered By James From Puddle of Urine, sadly not on the floor
2009-04-01 05:16:36

I am sorry -- for religious reasons, I can not answer that question.



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