And then it's over

Today has been the most exciting day yet of the strike (it has now been a week). For the first hour I watched Helen tear a piece of string in half, then in four, then in six. Good times. The excitement was so overwhelming we needed to rest a little afterwards, just to calm down. Adrenalin rush. You know what it's like. Then at 08.25, the radio played Splitter Pine, and I felt good for about as long as the song lasted.

I organized two shelves of books (I actually begged to do it, because their "system" really bugged me). This was the closest I was to having fun all day. Then I started running around opening random closets, so it looked like I was doing something for the greater good. At some point I opened a closet which smelled overwhelmingly of PlayDough. Just enough to trigger some sort of childhood memory, but just not enough to remember. I stood there for a few minutes, trying to concentrate, but then the smell of fried onions started spreading through the building. Our colleague from Iran was making us traditional food from her country today. No need to say that eating was the highlight of today also.

Afterwards I did the dishes just to have something to do. It took me an hour and a half. Joy!

At two o'clock we got the news that the strike was over. Silence spreads through the room. Then somebody says "Oh, that means we get the kids back tomorrow..." Somebody else says "Oh... yeah... shit." Then silence again. Then our boss sighs and says "I guess that means I have some phone calls to make." Then we just sat down and stared at the wall until we could go home half an hour later.

... We'd kind of gotten used to not doing much of anything by now...