Monitor

The interview went well,

I thought.

Then you pause for a moment,

your eyes skimming my resume,

and you ask,

why I left my former position?

Well, if you want me to be honest,

it was one of those things

where I resigned

and they didn’t fire me.

It seemed like the wisest choice

because otherwise

they might have pressed charges.

It was a normal Tuesday afternoon,

sunshine and blue sky 

filling the floor-to-ceiling windows.

We all had a deadline the next day,

so instead of chatting in the kitchenette,

we were furiously typing,

and the printer was spitting out

warm copies of our progress all day,

and we had had a meeting

that I thought had gone on a bit too long,

and I was feeling the pressure especially

because what my manager didn’t know

was that I hadn’t even started the project yet.

And not to sound egotistical,

but my part was crucial.

My part is always crucial,

even if someone else winds up

taking the credit

and getting the commission.

And I didn’t mean to procrastinate.

I don’t think of myself as a procrastinator,

but I just had a hard time getting this thing started,

and I was preoccupied with other things.

My mother being sick,

my dog with her diarrhea,

my husband being moody

and staring at his cell phone all night.

Not that that really is an excuse

for leaving things to the last minute,

but I just want to explain my state of mind,

having so much to do

in so little time

and the meeting going too long

and Monica kept sending those emails

“just checking in,”

and Lori and Sarah

sending all those inside joke emails,

hitting “reply all”

like anyone else cared,

and some construction project

going on outside

with a loud

BANG
BANG
BANG.

Then my screen—my monitor—

went really dim,

for no reason at all,

and I could barely see anything,

and yes,

I tried turning it on and off again,

first the monitor,

then the whole computer,

then I tried adjusting the settings

with squinted eyes,

and I started to get a headache,

so I called Rick in IT,

but he wasn’t picking up his phone,

and I put in an urgent service ticket,

and no one was responding,

and I could feel my heart pounding faster,

and I felt a little dizzy

and realized that I hadn’t eaten anything all day.

I unplugged my monitor

and stared at the back of it

in a daze.

Monica decided at that moment

to “pop by” my office

to “see how I was doing with that report.”

So without thinking,

I hurled that monitor

in her direction,

and it loudly crashed onto the floor

near her feet.

Someone jokingly cried,

“Opa!”

But there was no laughter,

only a cold silence.

They later told me

that I had screamed then too,

a terrible sound,

but I don’t remember it at all.

Monica pursed her lips,

turned around and walked away.

I was summoned to Tom’s office

and was told I’d be escorted out.

I only had time to grab my purse

and my potted cactus.

I was told that everything else

would be boxed up

and shipped to my house.

Suspiciously, a full package

of Milano cookies

in the second left-hand drawer of my desk

was missing, never to be seen again.

The owner of the company

had always liked me

so that was how I got that whole

“resigned, not fired” deal,

and they agreed not to harm

my future job prospects,

but that’s why I didn’t use them

as any of my references.

You are quiet for a moment,

then look down and shuffle some papers.

You thank me for my time

and say you'll get back to me soon.