A piece of work—a piece of pie—a piece of the puzzle. Life’s little joys and set backs. And in such cases I find myself biting my tongue. Holding back my true thoughts and offering carefully worded substitutes that help me
keep my job
keep my work
keep my survival
Lashing out at evening news reports and vacuous political speeches to let off steam and prevent my head from
Or…I sit at wobbly Starbux tables with friends, snickering at the fashionimpaired as they hobble or sashay by. “Oh yeah, that one is a real piece of work.” We chortle, stamp our feet and somehow feel better about ourselves. Sometimes I wonder though…
Does somebody think I’m a piece of work?
How is Christine working it?