A Case of Too Many Hats

 
There’s a little person behind my eyes, sitting in a captains chair
Toggling joysticks and control panels
His name is Charles
Charles is the manager of the machinery that is called “my body”
At the crack of dawn each day, I’m awoken by Charles
Charles has a big blue button at the center of his console,
attached to some electrodes he and his associates
attached to my brain
This is the postal service of my life
One of the first of his messages I receive, is to go to my closet
I open it, and all I see are hats
There are Baseball caps, uniform hats, hardhats, beanies,
even top hats and cowboy hats
I hear Charles interrupt my daydreaming
“Hurry up!” “You’ll be late!” “Fetch your knapsack that will hold
all your hats while you go about your day!”
I crouch to grab my hats of the day as Charles reads aloud
to me, my daily agenda
“This morning you will be a person,
As you walk outside, pedestrian”
“By 9 am you are a coworker
If you stop for coffee, customer”
“In the office, subordinate
At lunch, subordinate on break”
“Call from home, sibling/adult child
At meetings, “worker bee” ”
My hands start to peel
We haven’t even reached 2 pm
My fingers blister and swell at constantly
changing hats
They look like boxing gloves
“Charles” I say. “I need to go to the hospital”
Charles asks me if the Patient hat is in the knapsack
I search and scour
“No” I say dejectedly. I almost collapse
“Well that’s bad luck, but we’re awfully behind schedule.
I guess it bad timing for us to say now your hands are a little full”

*

(Featured image of hats by SevenStorm JUHASZIMRUS)