View Full Version : My Cycle of Life

03-09-14, 12:51 AM
‘’Hi, I’m Jack, I am new here…
Six months passed marking the anniversary yet feelings of celebration were not the emotions felt. Another new job, another new personality, a fitting place for my mind and hands. Day after day, week after week, all different yet somehow all the same. My time spent had become blurred in memory into a ball of unsettled energy tucked away in the linear motion of my mind.

It wasn’t a hard job stocking shelves and aligning product. It was a tedious one, which came with little thought. Programmed like a computer, I knew only what I needed to know, did whatever was directed. My mind had become accustomed, no, encoded into a way of work, a new way of life. Little time was spent on contemplation or redirection, only plans of the upcoming day and miserable night. Only the contemplation of items which would inevitably be shipped, unloaded, then placed in the empty slots.

Thought had become irrelevant and an unnecessary distraction. An enemy to progress and the greater good. Months of this made it easier and less frowned upon. The drive to speak up, stick out, had been extinguished after my first day.

I was paid ten dollars an hour for my time at work but one hundred wouldn’t suffice for the damage done. The overtime at home, in my mind, could not and would not be accounted for by the H.R. rep or store accountant. How far is too far? How much is too much? My job had broken the walls, flooding my social and personal life with work and only that.

My conscious, my humanity begged me, warned me, “Please let me out, I’m here”—like a neglected dog eager for attention. I avoided my instincts like the Indians avoid the white man, and any recognition of this would do me no good. Money needed to be earned, bills needed to be paid. I had become isolated and filled with motivation and all the while stripped of these very things. Shelves of laundry detergent and soap began filling my living room walls as pallets and boxes overflowed my dining room table. Like the dog, I had begun to chew off my own tail.

My resignation seemed unprovoked as I shamefully yet proudly handed my letter to my boss. A forty year old man still unaware of the fate that consumed me. Destiny and life move at different speeds. “It was a pleasure to have worked with you, I wish you the best” recited the balding man as the dog’s cage door unlocked. I had the world at my feet.

The days that followed were not as enjoyable as previously envisioned. The computer had been unplugged yet the software was still running. Slowly, and thankfully surely, the cans of soup dissolved from my living room, the pallets from the table. My vision remained the same but things appeared visually and emotionally different. Months of backlog had done its toll, rushing neglected sense into my susceptible eyes.

Frightened and depressed to say the least, I begged for the soup, begged for the pallets. The recycle bin had all but been emptied. With motivation and no direction my physical and mental energy had turned on itself. It’s not easy to halt a train at full speed. My mind wanted purpose, my body wanted work, and however the answer remained unseen.

My decomposition had become evident as routine tasks were now routinely difficult. The greatest of efforts were required to pick up the phone, as I made the necessary call. An interview was arranged and conducted with enthusiasm. The dog was being lead back into the cage. The map had an “X” at last and the ship set sail. My first day approached and I eagerly headed into the office.

“Hi, I’m Jack, I am new here…