By jwb71913
Date: 2005 Oct 24
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[[2005.10.24.21.12.29462]]

Wichita Blues

I've been sitting in this room every night for the last week, desperately hoping for a warm welcome when I return home.  I am afraid to leave here and unable to stay.

Images of home and hearth and my sweetie fill my subconscious as I go the through the litany of training rhetoric.  "Yes, I understand", "No, I dont have any questions right now", "I'm making a note of that".  Furtively watching the clock and composing limericks about this awful part of the country.  Now and then my mind takes such a wide turn that I totally ignore my surroundings, and have to be jerked back into the present by a forceful "Hey Jim, are you with us?"
  
"Of course I am with you asshole, I've spent my life teaching morons to do what you ask of me.  I'd rather think of my sweetie than listen to you".

So for a few moments I concentrate on my surroundings, and then the cycle begins again.