Have you ever wanted to get out of the office, but you’re stuck behind your desk with piles of paperwork and can’t seem to get away? Well, I’ve had many mentors who’ve taught me tips on how to find a good work/life balance, so even though I’m not an expert on this yet, here’s what I’ve learned so far.
Dedicated to Yurii and Kambrie and Emily-Jane, who work with me and have always seemed to be good at finding balance in life.
Artwork by Claire Kincaid
Come to me, says the mountain.
Come to me for wed bottles of winkly-wave and worn-stryker,
Up to the shroenstick paths of vibrancy,
Where gluttering minerals haunt my eventide of tin cans
And finite movements change chorkin into moor.
It’s a shame, I’d say,
To find grimace in nothing.
But we do what we have to,
And even if shrugs and finger waving melt eiple-stars,
It’s probably worth it to hang it anyways,
So do it before thumbs trigger
And balls drop from the net.
Now friends, if I could,
I would make a quick statement:
I would be the one who makes stops
That push the door frames into morphin.
But if it’s now, and even if it’s hidden,
It’ll have to be Shreveport and Lancaster and Hintleton and woes
That push the moorlish and reikneed without reasoning,
Just like they normally do.
Sorry about that.
“Free me”, tell the walrun (and I know it works),
And unto every corner you’ll find yourself wrinkling
With shranlist and woolfrun
—It’ll happen, I promise—
Until the blessed day when knees shall bow
And timeless cards enter into their woons
For another chance at carving and dying.
Bless for me, my child,
And in final-day slumber,
You’ll eat my woods of woolford and winstar
Until every last carnish flows freely,
And every last timeplate makes mockery,
And every last Sam and Ellington
Find one more chilling to be afraid of and to comfort.
It’s a sign-off,
And without that, it wouldn’t be
Potent and poetry and prenile.
If finding isn’t leaving, you’ll find it.
Just try it.
And you’ll win.