Thursday, December 3, 2009

I Love My Ducks

I’m convinced the morning will drag on forever. I’m slouched in my desk chair, looking out the ceiling-to-floor windows and watching herds of happy men and women scurry in and out of Starbucks. (See the SportsCenter clip? Duck can relate.) They’re bundled up in scarves and pea coats. When I look down at them from the 54th floor of my building, they look small, like insects. But today I’m on the second floor, and they appear normal-sized. And boring.

The sun is frightened. It hides behind thick clouds that tint the city grey. I realize my mood is grey, too. I open my Gmail account and attempt to catch up on my correspondence with friends and family, but there’s not much they don’t already know. (And nobody likes having to read an electronic letter packed with tidbits about one’s life that he or she already knows.)

So I check my voice mail. Three messages: one from a vendor, one from a resident, and one from the San Francisco Chronicle telling me our subscription will expire if we don’t fork over another check.

I move on to Facebook. Elisa, one of my best friends from childhood, has sent me a message. I’m puzzled as to how long it has been idle in my inbox. Suddenly I flash to the movie “He’s Just Not That Into You,” when Drew Barrymore cleverly identifies the hurdles that come with possessing multiple outlets for communication (such as an unnecessary Facebook message inbox, for one): “I had this guy leave me a voice mail at work, so I called him at home, and then he emailed me to my BlackBerry, and so I texted to his cell, and then he emailed me to my home account, and the whole thing just got out of control… and now you have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies. It’s exhausting.”

Luckily I know Elisa’s message isn’t a rejection, but I don’t know how old it is or how annoyed she’ll be with my tardy reply.

Regardless, my mood lifts when I see her video message entitled “I Smell Roses.” I watch the clip about ten times, and my drab afternoon is suddenly a remarkable one. Actually, I’ve been pumped ever since. If I were in the business of advice-giving (or medicine), I'd prescribe this video, no matter my patient's ailment – or Alma mater.

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