Today, after a considerable amount of job-related stressors attacked me like buck shot, I realized that I was working with left my hand firmly wrapped around my throat.
And I panicked a bit.
Not only because I looked weird in my masochistic pose, but because I was so subconsciously angered by a particular project that I was trying to off myself in public.
Did anyone see? And if so, why didn't anyone stop me?
I have dangerously expressive gestures anyway. (Another writer who shares my plight works by the manta "hide your face.") It's not unusual for someone to walk by me and make some comment about my being deep in thought, frustrated, or elated. I'll smile when I write something I enjoy. I'll slap my forehead when I write something particularly bad (or someone makes an asinine comment). Or I'll blankly stare out the window, at ceiling tiles, or at my pencil cup as I search for the right grouping of words.
All of this when something small happens. I over exaggerate with my body what I'm feeling on the inside.
But never before have I so unknowingly slipped a hand around my throat and started to squeeze.
Perhaps it's time to take up a new hobby.
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