breath

As I sit broken, staring at the monitor, waiting for someone to tell me what to do, I wonder if when I'm drawing my last breath, years from now (hopefully), will I think back on this and see it as something needed or good. Or will only the most precious, most important things be on my mind? Will I curse the work I do? Will I remember the people I work with? Will I remember leaving Jon sitting at Rojo alone. Drinking by himself, watching the Twins while I wait for someone, who makes just a bit more than I do, to tell me that all the work we've done over the last four hours was for nothing and we'll have to setup a time to try again another night. I hope I don't remember that. I hope I forget it by tomorrow. Parts of today I will remember. Parts of today were beautiful and will never be forgotten.