At Work

I sit behind a desk, staring at a bank of computer monitors.

My human interaction for tonight will be limited to watching the parade of zombified house-keeping staff and exchanging polite greetings with them as they shuffle by on their never-ending quest to eradicate scratches in floors and streaks on windows.

I have the (extremely) active ingredients of an energy drink raging through my bloodstream to keep myself awake through the night hours, but I can find nothing to devote this chemically induced manic energy to. I tweak a playlist, click refresh on Facebook, open and close my notepad as thoughts come to me and vanish as soon as my fingers begin to hover over the keyboard. I have watched dozens of episodes from a couple of shows in the past couple of nights, but I can't watch them anymore.

My foot taps endlessly... restlessly. I fight to resist tobacco time-killers that would keep my mind occupied for a few short minutes. I close several tabs that have been open in my browser for days, only to open several more that will stay open themselves, unread for days. I close my eyes to find a bit of solace from the barrage of the monitors and fluorescent lights in this modernized Spartan barracks. I cannot keep them closed - there are too many things I have to watch.

I feel as if I am aching for the weekend, but I don't really need a weekend. I need a vacation. I need a long vacation.

I need a warm beach with waves, or cool woods with rustling leaves above and below me. I need a broken-down house to rummage through, or a deer trail to follow. I need my guitar and something to write about. I need heartache. I need someone to make me sad or angry, before I go insane with the monotony. It's all so meaningless - or so it seems.

For now I'll keep my eyes focused on the horizon. I'll think and talk about the places I can go when my obligations here are fulfilled. But I can only do that so much. It is the easiest thing in the world to talk and think myself into inaction.

Life could be so interesting if I could just get off my butt and chase it. But every week, 40 of my waking hours are spent in artificial light tied to a worn-out office chair, glued to computers cluttered with cold meaningless data. Every morning I stagger through my door, exhausted by the tiresome task of doing nothing.

But someday I'll look back at these days and when I see this present valley, I'll know then just how high a mountain I've climbed. But for now that mountain stands unassailable as I sit waiting for my marching orders to come through.

No comments:

Post a Comment