[This day merits a post, methinks. I will tell you what I am planning, first. I am going to write a big thing (maybe four pages? Who knows) and post it in bits, to make up for my never posting anything this month ever. So even if I don't have time to write, I will still "write." Hokay? Ooooookay.]
My arms ache. I have been pushing for what seems like eternity. My legs strain, but they aren't going anywhere. Beads of sweat fall from my nose and splatter to mud in the dust below. The mammoth hulk of the mower rolls back. I wedge my foot in even tighter against the tire and the earth, and give another heave. Nothing.
Defeated, I let the mower roll back down to the bottom.
Sisyphus.
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I was thinking Sisyphus at the beginning, so when you said it at the end, my heart mini-exploded in smiling because you saw it too.
ReplyDeleteIs this how you feel at work? :-(
I am so looking forward to your posts! You don't even know. No really, you don't.
This is how I felt when pushing a tractor that did not want to be pushed.
ReplyDeleteI did that once with my parents' riding mower, and once more with a blind horse wearing a Western saddle stuck on his back.
ReplyDeleteBoth times, I ended up calling my dad for help.
I hope you were more successful.
Nope. Let that sucker roll back down the hill and I left it there.
ReplyDeleteAww, well, who needs a mower?
ReplyDelete