big yellow taxi

I can hear them through the walls of my office, carrying on about the Man. It's hot right now and that doesn't help. Desperation and irritation and always having to wait makes it worse. I walk out thinking maybe I'll get some air and see what's what and I hear someone say go fuck yourself you fucking bitch and I'm not expecting that so I look around with a dopey smile on my face you talkin' to me? repeating on a loop in my mind like I'm Travis Bickle. I'm confused, like I'm swimming through murky water or I've just eaten too much sugar and while I've probably been called worse come on now we've never even met. You talkin' to me? But hey whatever, that's cool.

But instead of turning around and seeing what's what I keep going, I go and I glide and I think about cooler weather and cheeseburgers and all the things I'd rather be doing right now than this.