While I try to be sweet and such

A sort of revelation occurred to me while I was talking to a "client" this evening. When the man was deep in discussion about the scores of certain agents who I evaluated a few days ago, all I could think of was... "Jeeez! That is such a wrong choice of hair color!! I mean, some honey blond?! Who was your role model? Ru Paul?!" At such times auto-pilot takes over and makes the appropriate remarks and uses all the technical terms that shows that I know my stuff. However the client's honey colored hair made me want to burst out into one of my unholy giggling fits! "No Mary... Behave!" While my super-ego doled out booming commands of 'corporate etiquette' and stuff, I just wanted to jump onto that desk of his and do a little tap dance on his lap top!

But if Mrs. Pais from school was here now, she would have told me that it was very unbecoming of a lady to tap dance on the laptop of a gentleman, however atrocious his hair color was. So for once I paid heed to what she had to say and refrained from showing off my dancing shoes.

Monotony has surfaced like a dead fish with is big dead fish eye staring at nothing in particular. And I'm stuck looking at that damn fish and trying to do a post postmortem of what went wrong. Not because its my job, but because I have nothing better to do.

The only saving grace to these insipid days are my conversations with Lin and Manal. We talk about general things of concern, how Infy people don't have a clue of what they are doing, or of the recent gossips, or just usual random ranting that serves no purpose whatsoever. Perhaps, it is because when I speak to them Language and speech become redundant. They can't hear or speak, so when I do communicate with them, it brings with it such freedom that language with holds from you. Perhaps thats the cause for this monotony, the realization the obsolete nature of language. Ironically, if it wasn't for language, this conversation would not have taken place.

"You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you For learning me your language."
~Caliban
(1:2:365-367)
The Tempest