Isn't this just wonderfull? I find myself panicking when I'm supposed to be in the "no panic zone," a chalked outline made by the smokers who once inhabited the area, to regain my composure before the time on the clock ticks twelve.
Isn't it grand that the big metal object in the sky with bright panels from which the sun glints off from has a picture of a bird commanding a ship, a reminder that we, the grunts, can go nowhere or do anything if we were not being guided by the man in charge.
I greet my neighbor, who also happens to be my coworker. We exchange a lyrical flow that was akin to the ease of slipping in of a foot into a new shoe. The coworkers around us stiffen their necks and raise their nose to the sky. They don't approve of such mindless chit-chatter.
My coworker's breathe is out of control. The onlookers within the "no panic zone" remind him of such with a nudge to the gut and a look that says You'd better get that shit under control before we all have to do double the work.
Isn't this just the greatest thing. Blockages of messages from one mind to another brought about by policing of ourselves within the "no panic zone."
My neighbor, possibly still going to be my coworker, and I quiet our talk as it is time to head back to work to perform the mundane tasks that we were always assigned to outside of the "no panic zone."
@mariannewest and 
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