Today I pulled up to work thinking about what it felt like to work. I am a project manager. A very harmonious thing happened. My understanding of the ocean replayed itself in little moments of me working. The people I worked with and the things I asked of them floated by. All was radio. All wearing undershirts and sweater sets and chubby. The persistence of this touched me to the point of speaking. I did. In my car. I spoke deep into the whiteness, the edges of my memory, to someone I loved once, on a very dirty couch, who was drunk & flashing. I told him I liked it. Work. I don’t know why, in this moment of synchrony I thought to tell him, who I haven’t spoken to in years, this. I walked into work, pumping a little from the feeling, and quickly gave way.