I don’t know what that means, exactly. But I’ve heard it said many times. Usually on the appearance of someone who doesn’t belong wherever they are anymore.
On past grading days, I’ve come in late, in order to avoid the mass of people hanging around talking, so I could get some work done. This time I didn’t feel like it. I wanted my vacation ASAP, and coming in late would entail staying late. So I didn’t.
And I’m glad. I didn’t get a lot of work done, but that’s okay. I got to spend a few minutes talking to people I never get to talk to. I talked to people who don’t belong anymore, retirees and moved-ons and various wonderful people I haven’t seen in months if not years. I learned one of my co-workers is not only a published author–before coming to the US he was a newspaper editor in…oh, hope I don’t get it wrong…Nigeria, I think. A country in Africa that begins with N, I’m pretty sure it’s Nigeria. He had to leave because he published articles critical of the president.
Wow. And to think I could have spent eight hours alone there, filing.