Happy place

You know tensions are a bit high around the office when you have to explain how calm you are because the other person says they can't tell. I chose the high road and walked back to my office to continue working, while the smartass in me was dying to say, "My heart rate at this moment could be used to calibrate a polygraph machine. You, on the other hand, need to count to ten before your heart explodes."

It wasn't an altogether bad day at the office, but I did have to retreat to my happy place more than a few times. It's nice there. I should invite more people to come there with me.

Every moment feels like Saturday morning, where you're all nice and rested from sleeping in a little bit. There's no rush to change out of your pajamas, there's a fresh pot of coffee and your crossword puzzle is right there on the table along with a freshly sharpened pencil.

Clocks are meaningless. Everything is agreeable. There are no arguments, only civilized debate. Everything is self-cleaning. Your favorite movies are available on demand. The phone has blocked out any and all numbers but your good friends. The art supplies are endless and everlasting. Fine wines and spirits are plentiful and hangover-free. The weather is a balmy 72 degrees and the pool water is warm. Skies are clear and shade trees are everywhere. Nothing is forbidden and everything is free.

Oh, well, back to work.