I have an unexpected sense of optimism today, despite being locked to this cubicle cage for the balance of an eight hour term of which I’ve just begun. The ability to become liberated in prose that I have to scribe in secret lest the “wardens” catch me is all that I have. All that I need. I’m looking around at the poor souls I’m tethered to, each of them adapting in their clever and unique ways. A neighbor two doors down is perusing Wikipedia pages, filling his rolodex with random and questionable new information. The young woman to my immediate right is religiously swabbing down her keyboard with the third Clorox wipe in ten minutes. I am included in superficial banter headed by the gentleman across from me, of which I only realize is such when after I begin to offer a thoughtful response, I get confused looks. I quickly course correct and shoot a platitude that seems to appease the drones, but I feel disgusted inside afterward. On the cusp of being social and altogether openly recluse, I feign interest in the rhetorical mumblings wafted my way with a respective pained expression, acknowledging grunt, or agreeing “mm-hmm”, to pacify those constantly seeking validation for even the most trivial things. Aside from that, again, I am pleasant in spirit; able to exercise my literary muscle in between long periods of inactivity my hired trade. I fantasize that I’m a paid blogger in this moment… I guess that’s my I’m so cheerful.