dawn

I've always wondered what it would be like to be named Dawn.

I don't ponder what it would be

like to be called Pansy, or Alex, or Missy, or Mae

just Dawn.

Not sure why.

Just as I'm not sure why I'm still in bed on a work day.

I feel ill but not enough to stay abed,

least in my book, or bed maybe.

Or I may just change my mind about that

(as my tummy does a flip).

I'm always amazed at how at work

people talk about feeling sicky.

And how the symptoms they talked about stay

floating though the office waiting to settle on another person.

Contagious places offices.

I think about all the surfaces we all touch

staplers, the mail bench, phones

(another but different tummy flip).

My work is too poor to pay for a cleaner

so we roster the cleaning

and I always, always volunteer to clean the bathroom.

Cause then I know it's clean.

Sometimes I just sneak a quick, mid-week door handle sanitizing too.

I, for one am grateful that we have mums and

good farm girls in our office cause

you can trust that things get well cleaned.

But those door handles, hmmmm.

The door to our loo has no lock or latch.

But there is the bathroom room to go through first

so it's not public or anything.

The lock got removed after Tinky got locked in there

and had to have tools passed through the window

to unscrew her way out.

Since then we've had no lock or latch

and it doesn't seem to bother anyone much.

Maybe cause none of us would be

espcially bothered if we have to pee in a field.

It's a farm thing.

This does not happen in our daily lives,

the feild peeing I mean.

The only bother is when I'm away from the office

but with my workmates,

I tend to forget to lock cubicles in public places.

Good thing there isn't any people,

other than the ones at work

in the Methven.

Maybe I just needed to lie in bed and watch the sunrise

and wonder what it would be like to be named Dawn.

I need that sometimes.