Just Prune That Bonsai…

tree trimmingCalm your mind, says the therapist. Well, I’m sitting here right now and typing out my thoughts in an ATTEMPT to stay calm. How’s it working, did someone say? Fine. It’s…working…fine…sorry, got distracted there by the sound of my grinding teeth.

And I was doing so well. Then we had to have staff meeting where Amanda waltzes in late, all overpriced and over-applied makeup, and right in the middle of my big presentation. She tells a stupid joke, everyone laughs because they find her attractive, and the punchline of my Scottish windsurfer joke is ruined. RUINED.

This little thing has just tilted me beyond belief, so I think it might be time for the bonsai. I’ve had to use this thing so many times I’ve turned it into an art form; some of the finest tree removal Ashwood has ever seen, right here at my desk. It doesn’t need trimming as much as you’d think, but there IS something strangely therapeutic, sitting here and rimming away with my comically tiny scissors. Probably a combination of the satisfaction from seeing those branches all straight and organised, and the amount of concentration you have to pour into making sure you don’t snip off a branch.

Man, I can’t imagine how hard it is to do tree pruning and trimming for a living. Those shears are massive, and if you make a mistake, that’s a paying customer you’ve let down. I’d really rather not think about it. Makes my office job seem really simple in comparison.

Ohh…that’s what my therapist was talking about. Just the act of trimming this tiny tree has forced me to think about my problems from a different perspective. I DO have it good. Melbourne arborists don’t have the benefit of a cushy office job; they’re out there all the time, pruning and lopping in the cold. Suddenly, all my anger has evaporated!

For now. Until Amanda next opens her mouth.


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