How can you tell when you need to quit your job? December 1, 2009
Posted by Mike in : Mike , trackbackA moment in the life of a worker who needs to quit:
Paul Barkin is a typical human. Been working at the same place long enough to know his job by rote. Creativity has left him and he sees his world as a cage he needs to escape. This is one of his typical morning moments:
Paul places the small bronze key in the left inside desk lock, he vomits in his mind, “God, I hate this”. Turning the key; he sees it turn a thousand times before, “One half turn up, insert with the ridges down… was it down…or up.” Leaning forward with elbows on knees, it’s the most comfortable he’ll feel all day.
Repeating the process to the other side, he opens the upper right drawer fishing for his favorite pen. Not sure what he’s going to do with it but wanting to feel its familiar smooth cool metal surface with the curled thumb grip. He extracts the pen from the menagerie of markers, pens, scissors and rubber bands that always seem to end up in the pen section of the plastic divider entangling themselves to the frustration of anyone wishing access.
Looking up at the P.C., “PROCESS 41 IS COMPLETE”. He marks the next state to be processed. “South Dakota”. With experienced hands he flicks the sliding keyboard into position from under the desk and whacks the keyboard a dozen times “D: [TAB] [TAB] \temp [ENTER] [F8]“.
Selecting Dakota, he completes the command initialization and is gone. Vaguely aware of what he’s doing, he sees tall grasslands flowing and ebbing in a symphony of winds. Each wave carrying him through luscious fields, across old wooden fences, neat, well maintained and weather worn to a soft grey.
Images of riders wearing Hudson Blanket styled jackets, swede brown with matching wide -brimmed hats. And hair. A woman. Gold-yellow hair. Moving like the rolling hills, swept back. Her gaze; solid; blue-green; penetrating; turn to meet his.
“BEEP!” He snaps back. “PROCESS 42 COMPLETE”. Feeling his heart beating the way it was meant to beat, he knows he has to get out of here.
The point is: When you find your days are like Paul’s, a mix of daydreams and repetition, its time to get the fuck out.
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