Never Change

There’s a secretary at work who dresses like she’s about to play soccer, but she’s not.  I like her.  She shuffles everywhere.  She moves slow. She doesn’t talk much. In an office of people who are yelling and gesturing and grabbing papers like they’re playing a stock broker in the movies during a collapse of the market, she moves slow.  She shuffles.  I shuffle.  Every time I’ve passed her since I started in April, I thought something like, “I like your style.” She wears a pony tail; I wear a pony tail. I thought something like, “Never change.” While other teachers were running to the copy machine, running to tell children to stop behaving like children, she stopped to look out the window.  I stopped to look out the window. I thought something like, “Stay cool.” Then I found out this week she has two herniated disks in her back and can’t have the surgery until February; That’s why she moves so slow.  I don’t know why I move so slow.


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