Mood swinging

I must be mood swinging
Because late last night
I twirled on my living room rug
Barefoot
Circling to music
As the cat chased cotton balls
Both of us giddy
For no apparent reason
And I was so euphoric
I hung another picture
With math and measuring tape
On an empty wall
And thought about buying
Those red and black bar stools
With seats that spin
It’s only money after all
And my mood still swung
The next morning
As I walked humming
In the lovely heat of late May
My black skirt flouncing around
My winter white legs
Bouncing into the office
Almost, almost twirling
And then – ever so slowly
Between conference calls
And aggressive emails
Some unknown force
Beat the joyfulness from my heart
Until I felt an overwhelming urge
To fade underneath my desk
Where now is my mood swinging?
I pray it’s only buried
Under millions of Microsoft windows
And that if I go home
And twirl on my rug
I will mood swing again

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