4:30

I can always tell when 4:30 is approaching.  Our building is split between two organizations.  We, the larger one, have 2/3 of the space.  Our neighbors, who used to own the whole building, now lease their 1/3 from us.  None of the walls are terribly soundproof.  I regularly hear the ladies at the Lumber & Building Supply office exchange morning greetings and weekend gossip.  Yesterday, I got to hear an older man on the phone as he made (slightly inconvenient) arrangements to pick up a broken computer and drop it off at the computer repair shop.  Today, there was a 5 or 6 year old girl who was "helping" while her relative (grandfather?) conducted his business.  Like clockwork, however, the distinctive sounds of closing down start emanating from the wall around 4:20 pm.  Shortly thereafter, the men (or man) leave(s).  "See ya tomorrow," they (or he) intone as they walk out the door to their cars.  The ladies head out a few moments later with their cheery "Bye!  Have a good evening!"

This morning, however, I was suddenly interrupted by a loud sigh that sounded like it came from right behind me.  "This day is just dragging on!" proclaimed a woman's voice.  Startled, I glanced at the clock.  10:38.  It took me a moment to realize that it wasn't one of my coworkers from VA or even someone in the same room.  I smiled to myself.  Sometimes, everybody knows that a day is dragging.