062204I sit in my computer chair gently spinning left to right. I pick up a Cheez-It from the pile on my notepad and admire it for a few seconds, noting the amount and consistency of powered white cheddar cheese resting on top, before plopping it in my mouth and munching away. I turn slightly to the left, looking out the corner of my eye at the blue sky and puffy white clouds just beyond the jail�s roof. I hear Pat softly typing away on her keyboard. It makes me wonder what my typing sounds like and I try to listen as I type each word. Something moving catches my eye and I glance down at my clock. I watch �Customization Project Team� perpetually creep to the right with every second that goes by. Three of my cube panels hold a collage of photographs. A picture of Jake sitting in my dad�s Explorer with his hair tousled from a weekend of camping and not showering catches my eye first. His half-smile and scrunched up face make me want to laugh. My eyes move to the right and I take in more photos. Between my Girl Scout troop and my cousins is a poster for �The Notebook.� Below it, an empty miniature vase, framed photograph of my family and Kleenex box. A pink lei hangs from some plastic contraption permanently fixed to my monitor. I turn back towards the window. Though not part of my cube, I feel like it�s mine. If I slide my chair back far enough, I can see the clock tower. Before turning back towards the computer, I let my eyes shift towards the floor. An explosion of blues, yellows and greens meets me. I smile, knowing how many compliments I�ve gotten on my new rug. I like to think of it as my welcome mat. Welcome to my cube; my world at the Star Tribune for the next year. 061804I always seem to lack in updates when I'm happy...
...therefore, no updates.
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