Friday, March 18, 2022

The morning after St. Patrick's Day


May the standing desk rise to meet you.

May the ergonomic pillow be at your back.

May the fluorescent office lights shine warm upon your face,

The consistent coughing from your coworker fall soft upon your ears,

And until you’re able to work from home on Friday,

May that guy learn to cough into a tissue or his elbow

And not the goddamn palm of his hand.

- - -

May you make an Irish goodbye from the office’s Thirsty Thursday mandatory drinks a half an hour before your boss knows you’re gone.

- - -

May your social anxiety be as fleeting as rain.

May you not get any coworkers’ names wrong.

May there be leftover pizza in the breakroom,

That keeps you full all day long,

Because in your morning rush to get out the door you forgot your lunch

And there’s no time to run out and grab something.

- - -

For each petal on the shamrock,

May it bring a wish your way—

Free donuts, few distractions, and a desk near your office crush,

For today and every day.

- - -

May some of your work clothes from 2019 still fit,

Enough for at least three days a week in the office.

And even though you wear the same black pants every day,

May ne’er a coworker notice or care.

- - -

May you never take work home with you,

Except on Wednesdays and Fridays

When you’re allowed to work from home.

- - -

May the meeting rooms you reserve always be free.

May they comfortably accommodate everyone on the team.

And when you realize that no one else from the meeting is in the office,

And you made the thirty-five-minute commute just to take it on Zoom,

May the frosted glass walls of the conference room

Muffle your banshee-like scream.

- - -

May your presence in the office be like a rainbow —

Very visible, but no one can reach you.

- - -

May you escape to the bathroom and remain

To your needy coworkers unseen.

And while you’re away,

May you remember to lock your computer,

So no one spots your updated resumé on your screen.

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