Friday, July 10, 2009

What do you do?

At an appointment yesterday, the question of "What do you do on your lunch hour?" came up. I was a little taken aback - I mean, after all, I am a Type-A personality woman. As a tall girl, I make an impression when I walk into the room. As a smart girl, I can hold my own with the most challenging of client or coworker or relation. As a pretty girl, I make the occasional head turn. I work and I work hard and I work a lot.

What the heck is lunch hour? And who actually takes one these days?

Let's take a step back in time. The year is 1988. I'm the front desk receptionist at Marx/Knoll, Denight & Dodge Advertising in Portland. We have space in a funky but high end building. I was expected to look like someone walking out of a fashion magazine (pretty funny for a tall, skinny, geeky 19 year old). I had the short hair, expensive outfits and perfect nails. I had the attitude - nobody got past me without my permission. I even had the back-up - I got to leave my desk at 10am and at 3pm for 15 minute breaks. I got a half hour lunch, usually at 12:00 noon.

I'd walk through downtown, shop at Nordstrom, call a friend from an empty office. There were no car phones, cell phones, text messages, emails. It was a much simpler and often lonelier world. But I got my lunch break and I took a break from work every single day.

It has been a while since I held an office job. Looking back, I think I took a lunch break maybe once a week, and only because I had things that had to be done during the 7am-6pm timeframe that saw me at my desk. I thought I was Wonder Woman (I can bring home the bacon... fry it up in a pan...) I thought I was doing everyone a favor. If I worked that hard, if I sacrificed my lunch hour to make sure my work got done (especially as we cut my department from 5 people to two) I would be indispensable.

Until the day they kicked me to the curb. None of that stuff really matters. A boss that expects and demands long hours, skipped lunches and your firstborn is not a good boss. Those things they asked of me are illegal in my state, by the way. They can't keep me from taking an hour's lunch, if I'm at the office from 8-5, no matter how busy we are.

When I start this new job, there will be rules and boundaries and expectations in place. If I'm at the office for 9 hours, I will take an hour off for lunch. If I work at home, I will take an hour off the work I'm doing. Now, I can't promise I'm not going to do laundry or walk the dog or do any other myriad of chores, but I will take a lunch. I WILL.

What do you do at lunch?

Fearless


Joyful
Fearless
Alive

But fearless stays front of mind
always in the middle
missing home
as much as the feel of the skin
that held it carefully, safely is missed.

My place is empty, waiting,
aware of the vacancy of me
looking forward to the day
when emptiness is replaced
by fingers entwined, rejoicing, complete.

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