Money

Sometimes it's money.
When I walk inside the drab building
When I walk inside my windowless office
And the sun is shining outside, or it's raining
Or snowing, but it's ....outside
Where I want to be.
I can convince myself this where I need to be
If I imagine the whirring sound of an ATM
Except it's my computer and every few minutes,
A crisp bill comes out and drops into my purse.
Payment for borrowing my brain for a bit
And I think of what I can do with that money,
A trip to Mexico in March,
An electric bike,
Savings for sunny days when I don't have to go
Into a windowless office in a drab building.
Adventures, visits to friends and family,
Food on the table, flute lessons
And French, and it feels better somehow
To be in that office.
Just keep that cash machine
Whirring.