First Draft

"What are you going to do with it?"

The textured pattern in the fabric of my cadet blue cubicle has been vibrating at me for months, and it's not a pleasurable kind of buzz. Maybe I should take the little mementos down because they're not cheering me in the least. I don't believe any of these cubicle squatters really believe in the power of their desk-amulets. They're not staving off the soulsuck in the least bit.

"I'm going to write about things I like to think about." is what I said with just a little conviction... Not too much because I'm not one to commit too soon.

"Who do you think's going to read it?"

"I have no idea, but does it really matter? With no audience I can spout words and not feel like I have to live up to something. I'm already trying to live up to everyone in my physical presence. Why would I want to do it online, too?"

He shrugged, losing interest. "It's your blog. Do whatever you want."

"That's exactly the point."