Well, it's been a good long while since I've written a post, mainly just because I haven't had any good stories. But I can't go too long without being mortified by my crazy self, so an opportunity presented itself yesterday.
Enjoy.
It should come as no surprise that I deal with... Characters... Working in the hospitality industry. I'm not complaining, because I love my job, and everybody has to deal with such things in their jobs as well.
My sales coordinator leaves her radio on the R&B station everyday, so I'm used to hearing Steve Harvey dole out marriage advice every morning and hearing Beyonce 7 times a day.
But I digress. After a particularly trying phone call, I hang up, my fists clenched, trying to take deep breaths.
Then I hear it. So soft and faint at first, like a far away Michael Jackson running down from the other end of the basketball court, Bugs Bunny at his flank. I close my eyes and start humming to myself.
"I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky...."
You know, I did think about it every night and day. I just wanted to spread my wings and fly away. I started softly singing out loud.
"I believe I can soar..." My voice was soaring at this point, running out that open door.
Then the choir comes in. Sweet heavens, the choir.
I am literally standing up, singing, with my arms stretched out, flying motion. It's like Michael was lifting my 3rd grade self up to the heavens. It might be a good point in this story to mention that I have been very sleep deprived all week.
"Girl, what you doing?" I see my two coworkers standing right behind me.
"Me? Uh, Stretching."
