Dear Collard Greens

I love you. You make me so incredibly happy. Like when you are made very well, you can literally transport me to another place. Another place of pure light and beauty and tranquility and non-annoying things. The complete opposite of what this day was. A day where I felt that I couldn't possibly stand to answer one more person's question about the same thing I had said eight thousand times earlier. A day that ended with my giving a 15-second presentation to a room full of professors with: "So far so good," and a thumbs-up sign. I am getting to the point where I start laughing when I talk to some of these people because I am so frustrated and so incredulous that no one ever listens to what I tell them.

I know it isn't their fault. I know they are frustrated and that my job, for which I get paid and can pretty much support myself, is to help them. But I think that, as it turns out, I am not a helper. I am operating on less and less patience. I think I need to keep a zen garden at my desk or candles or someone who could repeat a lovely mantra to me when the murderous rage refuses to ebb. Someone like Johnny Depp. Johnny Depp could totally sit next to the huge Bucky blanket in my office and chant a blood-pressure lowering mantra. He could sing it even. I feel almost certain that I could be a better person then. Probably. If he brought food. And drinks. And was only repeating the mantra for one day, the day that was also my last day workig there. Then I would be the most amazing employee ever. Oh, Johnny. You always solve everything. You and the collard greens.