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I’m very fortunate that I don’t have a day job, but if I did—
This is what I would eat.
This is how I would stand.
This is what I would wear.
This is how I would sometimes not shave.
This is how I would wear my tie: slowly loosening on its own, top shirt button unbuttoned.
That isn’t what I’d drink because I don’t drink coffee. (I’m assuming that’s coffee. The only other thing it could be is coke with no ice, but no one drinks coke in a coffee cup. And certainly not without ice.)
And this is how I would feel. (And you’re going: “How do you know how he feels?” I see the smile there: that thin-lipped upturn of air-conditioned peace, that quietly bemused mien of satisfaction and—even—victory at finally getting the one thing you enjoy all day, ham on a bagel at three minutes past one in the afternoon.)
Oh, and that’s how my head would look at my job: with the top half of it missing.
I remain
Champagne
12:34 AM
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