“To write poetry and to commit suicide, apparently so contradictory, had really been the same, attempts at escape.”
― John Fowles, The Magus
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Waking up every day was a mix of the ice cold waters of anxiety and uncomfortable warm numbness of depression. Working day to day and dealing with people in a crappy environment where I cant say what I mean and mean what I say makes life rough. It just didn't sit well with me. What probably didn't help was my minor manic depression from being alone. Ever since high school all my close friends slowly drifted apart, until it was just me. No girlfriend, a couple hookups few and far between. The one bedroom apartment that I managed to rent for an outrageous price didn't help either. Living paycheck to paycheck was mentally, physically, and emotionally draining.
Heading into work was rough. Dealing with my coworkers just drained me even more. The passive aggressiveness and hateful glares you get when you don't respond with the socially correct answer. Blah! If someone asks you what 2+2 is, apparently fish is not an acceptable answer! If asked what your favorite geometric shape is, it apparently sounds like insanity if you respond with bananas. But bananas are an amazing geometric shape, they're nice and yellow and tasty. They go great in moon pies, ice cream splits, milkshakes, and everything in between! The superiority of the banana is unlike any other fruit! I don't care what they say about apples. Sure throwing an apple at a doctor would probably result in a flurry of cussing, and continuing that kind of behavior would indeed keep the doctor away, but with bananas, the amount of potassium and fiber inside of it makes it the ultimate fruit. The skin can be used for great things too. Like uhhhhh, packing wounds! Yes! Bananas are good for open wounds! No i'm not making this up Jared! Feck off mate. I'm trying to tell the readers about the superiority of bananas. Wait what? I'm not supposed to break the 4th wall? Awe shucks. Alright. Well, since there's no Men In Black, you're just gonna have to forget about everything we talked about earlier.
When I first come into work, generally my first response is to put on a facade of politeness towards the receptionist. After all, shes cute, so it can't hurt to be a little nice. But the responses I get from her vary. It can go from a good morning back, to a glance up and down. Now this is where my self consciousness and paranoia kicks in. I like to think i'm a decent looking dude. About 6 ft, not shredded, but not fat per say. I keep my back straight like my mother taught me, and walk with my head held high. Or at least as high as I can get it before I get embarrassed. Anywhoo, that morning interaction alone puts me on edge. I'm stuck thinking for the rest of the day if my hair is a mess, or maybe i'm just not her type, maybe i'm too fat, etc. The thoughts just dont stop. Yet I can't walk by without saying good morning or acknowledging her. Mainly because I feel like it would be rude if I did. And I try not to be a rude person. Like mama always said, "If you act like a dick, you'll get kicked in the dick." Advice I didn't take one time at a party, so I ended up trying to catch my breath on the floor.
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Ah shit. Someone’s trying to talk to me. Enough of the monologuing.
"Good morning, Drusman!" Steve says way louder than should be possible this early in the morning. "You have a good weekend?"
"Ugh, do you have to be so loud? It's 7:30 A.M. for Jerry's sake." I groan out while looking at the clock. Moving towards my cubicle I wave the back of my hand at him. "As good as can be, porn, video games, anime, what more could a man want?"
"Well as long as you had fun right?" Steve chuckles slightly uncomfortably, moving away from me to his cubicle down the aisle. "Also, boss lady wanted to have a chat with you man, something about the Cisco Network acting up again. Now I know its probably not your fault, but just in case you should head over prepared man."
Fuck. Not her. The only person on this earth I can call a literal demon. I can forgive murderers. I might be able to bring myself to understand rapists. (Pent up sexual aggression and they're normally ugly and weird. The poor bastards). But this She-Devil. This is an incarnation of Satan herself. The way she speaks is smoother than honey. You go inside to ask for a pay raise, next thing you know your walking out with not only an increased workload, but also making LESS money than you originally were. Now I would love someone to explain how this is possible to me. I've tried everything! Everything! I've brought in a needle to stab myself to snap me out of whatever trance I go in when I enter her room. I've taken well over the prescribed amount of adderall given to me. Nothing seems to work!
My phone begins ringing. I look at the extension number and a feeling of horror overcomes me. Boss lady as Steve calls her is calling me. Picking up the phone, I just hear a garble of words come out telling me to come to her office immediately. I put the receiver down and sigh. Time to begin my death march.