An open letter to the mess on my desk

15 Aug

Dear mess on my desk

When I came into work this morning, I expected to find your usual medley of junk greeting me – the only thing that greets me – but as soon as I sat down, I knew something was different.

Was it as pure and simple as a thicker layer of dust on my computer screen? Or the sticky sheen of that spilt yoghurt I haven’t quite gotten round to wiping off? The diet coke cans- three thereof?  Of course not, no. These things have been adding to your wit, charm, and overwhelming good-looks ever since I have known you. Something else, something more significant had happened; you’d changed.

But I mean really, I shoulda seen it coming. Your goal-driven, go get ‘em attitude and top-notch leadership skills should have forewarned me. You’re like a pioneer, charting new territory, flipping the bird at danger. Like your accumulation of V cans over in the corner there- some people would think eek! Fly magnet! But you just laugh- like fly-spawn would bother you. Or the pile of OK! magazines, speckled with my greasy fingerprint-ghosts of lonely lunchtimes. Fear of judgement would make people run a mile, but you stand, unashamedly, by your trashy tastes. And that small container of chicken-fried rice you are hoarding – oh yes I’ve noticed – it really screams ‘bring it on salmonella – I fucking dare you!’ Like you give a damn. I guess what I’m trying to tell you is I admire your courage, I really do. Who needs validation from other living things?

So why was I surprised to find this morning that you’d added an olfactory element to your previously visual existence? I owe you an apology- I underestimated you. I’m sorry.

People probably thought your soft, slightly nauseating, overly-ripe banana smell would put me off you. But I have to admit, as your new-found aroma enveloped me, I felt strangely at peace. I realised, mess on my desk, that you created this pong for a reason. You alone have been with me my whole life – messing up my bedroom, locker, dorm room, relationships – so if anything was going to make me feel included, loved, it would be you. You read my mind – I was lonely – and decided to act – bang! Once again, your decisive nature astounds me.

So now I am at one with you, mess on my desk; we share the same acrid, rotten odour. So let my boss make ‘pig pen’ quips at staff meetings all he wants! Let the cleaning lady pointedly vacuum in a 3 meter diameter around us! Let my colleagues file harassment cases against me! I will not tremble. It’s me and you versus the world, mess on my desk. So let’s spill coffee on original documents and pile snotty tissues in celebration of the anarchy that is our unity. I love ya pal.

Yours forever

E. Mercado.

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