Eli on Thinking and Sleeping

Eli called me into to his room tonight just after he went to bed. He was lying there clutching his latest and biggest stuffed animal (a rainbow colored octopus he named Sephie (short for cephalopod, but must be spelled with an "s").

- I can't sleep, he said. Too many thoughts are racing through my head.
- About what?
- All kinds of things. The past, the present, the future.
- What of the past?
- My birthday party.
- And the present?
- Bubi and Zadie. [His grandparents.]
- And the future?
- Life.

 Lately, this happens to me almost every night around 4:45 am. Wide awake I fight with my racing thoughts about the past, present and future. The early morning incidence must be a sign of old age. Or maybe too much wine...

Humanizing Authority Figures

I was apprehensive this morning heading into a meeting where I knew there would be four of my older guy bosses and the one woman (who is the scariest of them all) and a couple of young legal assistant boys and I'd have to perform my role as a subserviently enthusiastic robot. I walked in and had no choice but to sit on the same side of the table as the big boss (who recently voiced his dissatisfaction with my work demeanor) skipping one seat, next to the kids. They were chit-chatting, making Bernie Sanders jokes ("you have to be REALLY rich to be a Bernie Sanders supporter, otherwise you'll just give up all your income to taxes" [roaring laughter]), getting ready for the real important stuff.

There was breakfast. The big boss, as big bosses are wont to, dominated the conversation while he was munching on a mini-croissant. He is in his late fifties, but looks older, hair almost white, glasses, neither good-looking nor bad, well put-together and his words tumble out with no hesitation powered by self-assured thoughts. I was watching him. His right eye was twitching, crumbs were falling out of his mouth, gently landing all over his expensive shirt. A few minutes later, he leaned way back in his chair arms up in the air, as only powerful men are allowed to in public, and then he noticed the crumbs, launched himself forward and feverishly started cleaning his shirt. I swallowed a giggle and felt something almost close to endearment. He is only human too, after all.