I needed company. So I went for a drink. On my way, I heard somebody call my name from outside a café. I was only too glad to stop. It was two people i very seldom see, but how well do you need to know somebody to have a beer with them and talk the working blues away?
A beer calls a beer calls a beer and we ended up having dinner. They had divorced a year ago, and had just met here by chance. Walking a tightrope between the two of them, is what I really spent the evening at.
I couldn't help trying to guess who'd left whom. To no avail. Much unfinished desires, everyday hurt and plain longing got hurled at full strength from both sides.
Then the scientist screamed to her artist ex: Go to work instead of whimpering! Just go to work! ( Yes, beer had called wine too.)
That's when I stood up and went away. See, I choose my working hours too. That's even part of where the working blues come from.
Failure can take you the same long hours as success.