I used to stare at the tiny raindrops on the window, racing each other to see who would fall to the bottom of the windowpane first. Who would earn the blue ribbon today? On this cloudy, cold, rainy day. I used to look at the still raindrops, bulging with tiny little reflections. Why don't they race too? Maybe they're the audience, cheering on the other raindrops. But they are so still. Maybe they're contemplating. Maybe they aren't interested in the world of racing raindrops. Maybe they're more interested in their own thoughts and the reflections they are reflecting. Who is the woman in this reflection standing on the street corner with her black umbrella? Why did she choose a black umbrella? That seems depressing. I guess it matched her mood that day, or maybe the weather. What is she carrying? Coffee or tea? I wonder is she is a coffee drinker. I don't know, she seems like more of a tea person to me. I can't tell what she looks like under all of her layers of coats and sweaters. Her depressing black umbrella is in the way of her face. Her style looks very sophisticated, maybe she's going to work or possibly an interview. Interviews. I even dread the word. So much so that I cut myself off from my universe of tangential thoughts. How did I even get this job? Some days I feel that I've transported through time. I can't recollect the paths I took to get here. Probably because I don't even want to think about it. Is that possible to even transport through time? I've read up on some crazy theories about people going through time warps - thump thump thump.
I know that walk. Confident and loud.
"Hi, Ben, great to see you. Rainy day today, isn't it? A little depressing outside."
Yes. Depressing. I suddenly noticed how bright the fluorescent lights were.
"Hi Jerry, I'm ok."
"Great. Look, just checking in. Sara tells me she's setting a deadline for Thursday to have those reports done. She needs to get them out to some clients as soon as possible."
"Ok, working on them," I look at my computer screen. What else do I say? I sounded too blunt there. Like I don't care. But actually, I don't. "Just researching a few more things before I finish up."
Lies.
"Alright Ben, great."
I said nothing else. I refocused my brain to get these reports done.
"Oh, we also have a deadline on those sales. Just make sure you're meeting your quota," With that, he turned and walked away. It was almost like he was being controlled by his obligations to walk around and make sure all of his employees were on track. What do you really want to do, Jerry? You would much rather be home with your wife and kids right now, I bet. What hobbies do you have? Do you like to play video games, too? But you have to do what you have to do.
I still said nothing, just nodded my head. Not that he could see me behind my cubicle walls anyway. I focused in on my reports once again, and dived in on the mindless and obligatory machine like work. Alone and solitary. As I delved deeper into my work, my brain split off into new thoughts and soon I wasn't even thinking about the steps I needed to take to complete the reports. The work was happening on it's own, methodical and accurate like a machine. It gave my brain room to think more. I almost felt it was a dangerous but enjoyable experience for me to be alone and focused. A world of its own. I am not being mentally stimulated here. What's going to happen with me? What if I forget how to learn? What if I forget about knowledge, depth, beauty? Entering numbers and words into these reports all day required absolutely no mentally stimulating thought. I suddenly had a strange irrational fear. I comforted myself in the fact that I stimulated myself on my own terms at home with video games. My work phone interrupted me with a loud ring. How do I ever get these reports done around here with all of these interruptions?
I know that walk. Confident and loud.
"Hi, Ben, great to see you. Rainy day today, isn't it? A little depressing outside."
Yes. Depressing. I suddenly noticed how bright the fluorescent lights were.
"Hi Jerry, I'm ok."
"Great. Look, just checking in. Sara tells me she's setting a deadline for Thursday to have those reports done. She needs to get them out to some clients as soon as possible."
"Ok, working on them," I look at my computer screen. What else do I say? I sounded too blunt there. Like I don't care. But actually, I don't. "Just researching a few more things before I finish up."
Lies.
"Alright Ben, great."
I said nothing else. I refocused my brain to get these reports done.
"Oh, we also have a deadline on those sales. Just make sure you're meeting your quota," With that, he turned and walked away. It was almost like he was being controlled by his obligations to walk around and make sure all of his employees were on track. What do you really want to do, Jerry? You would much rather be home with your wife and kids right now, I bet. What hobbies do you have? Do you like to play video games, too? But you have to do what you have to do.
I still said nothing, just nodded my head. Not that he could see me behind my cubicle walls anyway. I focused in on my reports once again, and dived in on the mindless and obligatory machine like work. Alone and solitary. As I delved deeper into my work, my brain split off into new thoughts and soon I wasn't even thinking about the steps I needed to take to complete the reports. The work was happening on it's own, methodical and accurate like a machine. It gave my brain room to think more. I almost felt it was a dangerous but enjoyable experience for me to be alone and focused. A world of its own. I am not being mentally stimulated here. What's going to happen with me? What if I forget how to learn? What if I forget about knowledge, depth, beauty? Entering numbers and words into these reports all day required absolutely no mentally stimulating thought. I suddenly had a strange irrational fear. I comforted myself in the fact that I stimulated myself on my own terms at home with video games. My work phone interrupted me with a loud ring. How do I ever get these reports done around here with all of these interruptions?