I’ve heard it said that misery loves company, but what does one call it when you just want to be left alone? Apathy? Ennui? Let’s go with depression. I was absolutely deflated as I walked out of the office. Ms. Cedar was getting into her car, and I thought for a second that I wanted to tell her about my day. Maybe someone would understand my point of view and frustration. She noticed me and waved, but all I could muster was a fake smile and a sharp nod of the head.
“You’re in tomorrow, right?” she asked through her rolled- down car window.
“Don’t see why not,” I said, shrugging. “Do you need something done?”
“Tomorrow’s the day,” she winked, pulling out of the company’s little parking lot.
What did that mean? I wanted to know for a moment but then stopped caring again. There was no point playing mind games when all I wanted to do was curl up in the dark. Walking to the hole in the ground where I caught my trolley gave me some time to relax and start feeling better. Seeing the station packed let me know that I would either have to stand the whole way home or wait a long time to get a seat.
In my current mental state, it was worth it to the world that I not be surrounded, pushed to my limits. On the outside,
I am very capable of making people think I am the happy, cheery type. I’ve also been told that when I am upset, it shows obviously on my face. No sense getting mad about a crowd when I have the option to not plunge into it. When the first trolley stopped, a good portion of the group crammed into the already-full vehicle.
Within fifteen minutes, about half the time it takes to get home, most of the platform was empty, and I was able to sit down to wait. I had let two of my routes pass but was determined that I would take the third one no matter what. When that one arrived, I pushed through all the people who inevitably stood by the front, even though seats are open in the back. Several open seats gave me a small selection from which to pick.
“Excuse me,” I said to the little old lady who had placed her large handbag on the seat next to her.
Without looking, she moved it, gripping it close, allowing me the space to sit down.
“Thank you,” I added, getting no response.
Most people, even those who try to avoid having someone sit next to them, are nice enough to give that up when confronted.
I can actually sleep on the way home if I need to, and today was one of those days. Closing my eyes, I let myself get comfortable and drift off to sleep. There were a few times that my head snapped back sharply and jolted me awake. I looked around to see if anyone was laughing, and then after determining where I was, my eyelids would feel heavy, and I would close them again. Something inside me almost always allows me to wake up a few blocks from where I need to exit.
After wiping my mouth and blinking a bunch of times, I pulled the cord to signal my stop. I stood, walked to the exit, stepped down, and departed when the doors opened. There’s nothing like routine to bring you back to your emotional center. The slow rocking of the trolley allowing me to get a quick nap helped prepare me to deal with the family. An awaiting video game system couldn’t hurt either.
Unlocking the front door and slipping in quietly, I hoped to sneak past everyone and stretch out on my bed for more shut-eye. Both kids were playing on the floor while Polly was getting dinner ready. She heard me and poked her head into the living room.
“Dinner will be ready in a minute,” she said, putting some plates on the dining room table.
“Oh,” I said, sighing. The children were visibly excited that I was standing there, staring at them. I put my bag down and cleared a spot for me to get close to them on the floor. Picking up a few blocks, I built a little tower. Doing simple things like that made them clap and smile. At what age do we let our lives get so complicated that we forget how simple it used to be? I wanted to start over.
“How was your day?” Polly asked, bringing the food to the table.
I looked up from the playing and frowned at my sister. “I think I care too much.”
“What?” she asked, half laughing.
“Do you care about your job?” I stood up and then picked up both kids, giving them a squeeze. “Does everyone care about it like you do?” Being careful of the toys, I moved into the dining room to put the kids into their chairs.
“Of course, I care about my job,” my sister said as we all sat down.
“I know you care about keeping it or losing it, but do you care about your job?” I asked, filling my plate.
“Why don’t you cut through all your questions and tell me what happened today. Trust me, it will get us both to a better place quicker than the way you are doing it.” She stared at me, nodding slowly.
“Fine.” I put my fork down and leaned back. “There’s this exec who didn’t fill out her job right and then tried to make it look like I just didn’t do it. I did it today because my boss said I should, and then I find she’s on vacation and won’t even see it’s done until next week.”
“And?” she asked, giving me a confused look.
“Some people think they can get away with acting like they are the only one that matters.” I picked up my fork and poked my food.
“Do I have your permission to make fun of you?” she asked, stuffing her face.
“Are you kidding me? I’m being serious.” I pointed my fork at her. “Do you hear me?”
The kids ate like they were in a dinner theater as they watched us go back and forth. “You are being too serious. Welcome to office politics. Grab your big-boy pants.”
“So you think I’m acting like a child?”
“Thinking like a child, not acting. There’s a big difference. You can’t get upset when other people act like jerks.” She took a sip and wiped her mouth. “Get it?”
I did, but I didn’t like it. “So I should just suck it up?”
“We weren’t raised to be walked on, but how you handle it will determine how far up the ladder you’ll climb at your place.”
“I’m happy where I’m at.”
She smiled. “Doesn’t sound like it. Sounds like you’d like to be in a position to do something about it.”
“I’m a desktopper.”
“You are now. Is that what you want to do the rest of your life?”
I was about to answer and then stopped. “What if it is?”
“Then don’t complain about things that are out of your control.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing? Complaining?” I was getting mad.
“You’re the one always quoting the dictionary. You tell me.” She was right. I was complaining.
“Fine. You know the situation now. What should I do?”
“Are you planning to work there as a desktopper the rest of your life?” she asked, pointing her fork at me.
“I haven’t thought that far out yet.”
“Do you have any goals or dreams?”
I chuckled. “Did I just fall into the deep end or what?”
The kids laughed with me and kept right on eating.
“It’s part of being an adult,” she said, grabbing her empty plate and standing. “What’s the harm of looking ahead?”
I started eating again. “What are your goals?”
After cleaning up the kids, she removed them from their seats and stood there, rocking them gently. “I want to save enough money so they can go to college. I want to retire early, so I’m saving for that too. That’s about it for the big goals.”
“You have more than that?” I looked at my plate and couldn’t decide if I wanted more to eat. “I guess those changed recently.”
“Not really,” she said, knowing I was referring to her husband’s death. “We discussed that long before they were born. Yes, things changed drastically, but I haven’t given up those two.”
Scooping more on my plate, I began thinking about what I wanted. “There are two things I’d really like to do, I guess.”
“You going to tell us?” she asked, bouncing and kissing the kids.
“I want to write a bestseller and walk the Appalachian Trail.”
“What’s stopping you?” She gave me a sideways glare that was quite scary.
“Nothing, I guess.” I’ve thought about walking and writing for a long while, but it never went any further than my head. “You know it takes about six months to walk the whole thing.”
“So, you can use the money from your book sales to fund it, right?”
“Yes,” I said, grinning. “Now all I have to do is write something.”
“It’ll have to be better than ‘something’ if you hope to have enough money.”
“You know what annoys me the most about some of the people at work?”
She sighed and walked away from me. “The kids need a bath.”
“Hey, I can get the water ready, right?”
Stopping, she turned and looked at me. “How about you clean up, and I can listen to more complaining when they are sleeping.”
“I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
“You tried, but I stopped you. I do want to hear what you have to say after I take care of these precious little ones. Is that okay?”
I looked at the kids and then made faces until everyone was laughing. “Go take care of them, and I’ll be here cleaning up.”
“Thank you,” she said, climbing the stairs.
One thing I discovered was that I have no idea where Polly keeps everything in the kitchen. Looking for the right-size containers for the leftovers took me on a tour of every cabinet. Once I had that part handled, it was easy enough to wash the dishes. She normally fills something with water, adds detergent, washes the dishes, and then turns on the water to rinse. Somehow I am not confident enough that I make things clean enough, so I run the water full blast the whole time.
Moving on to the living room, I found the basket used for all the toys. Since I knew it would be a while to get the children asleep, I took it upon myself to examine each item. I have to say no matter how old I get, there’s something about blocks that calls out to me. None of the other things on the floor gave me more than a minute or two of enjoyment, and I was trying. So I put everything else away and kept building until Polly returned.
“I thought you would be playing with your new video game,” she said quietly when passing through.
“Honestly, I totally forgot,” I said, meaning it. Putting the blocks away, I stood and went into the kitchen. “Did I do everything to your standards?”
“Give me a minute. I’m sure I’ll find something you missed.” Shrugging, she said, “Nope, it all looks good.” She gave me a hug and patted me gently on the back. Grabbing some snacks, she headed back into the living room. “Ready to talk?”
I made my choice of something to munch on and followed her to the couch. “You know I do appreciate you keeping me in check.” I sat down and relaxed. “Is your show on tonight?”
“Later, so tell me what annoys you the most about your coworkers.”
I took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. “They get to do some cool stuff I’ll never be able to.”
“Like what?” she asked, shoveling in the snacks.
“I do the layout work for their meetings, and some of the places they get to go to are really nice.”
“I’m going to need your help with this one. Is that jealousy or envy?”
I laughed. “I get those two mixed up all the time. Pretty sure it’s envy.”
“All right, so the fact they get to go and do things for work annoys you?”
“It’s probably because they kind of brag about it.”
“Your associates walk up to you at your desk and throw it in your face that they are doing these things and going to these places?”
I now felt very dumb for bringing this whole topic up. “No.”
“Then what do they do?”
“I mostly read about it in the brochure and then ask them. They’re all excited about it, and I get angry.” I hung my head and realized I sounded like a little kid.
My sister sat there, crunching loudly, not saying a word. Finally, she stood up and left. On her return, she handed me a soda. “You’re stupid. You know that, don’t you?”
I wiped the top of the can and opened it, taking a big sip. “I care too much.”
“Are we back to that again?”
I held up my soda to my sister, and we clanged the cans and sat back. “When am I ever going to grow up?”
“Take your time. It’s no fun being an adult. Any more issues you need to work through?”
“Something is going to happen tomorrow at work.”
“Like what?”
I shrugged. “Ms. Cedar was being all cryptic. She thinks I know more than I really do.”
“I can’t help with that. It doesn’t make any sense.”
I finished the can and put it down on a coaster. “How did you get to your position in your company and start making more money?”
“Raising my hand for more responsibility and putting in the extra hours. You’ve got to give more to get more.”
I thought about what more I had to give. “I volunteered to help with creating a new promo piece for the company. I also helped a lot with picking our new computer system. Hey, that’s probably what Ms. Cedar meant about tomorrow. She’s probably going to tell everyone what the next step will be for rolling it out.”
“That’s the kind of opportunity that can move you out of your current position and into something new.” She gave me a look like she was proud to know me. “Would you be happy to do that?”
“I think I could handle that.” I rubbed my chin and imagined others showing me respect for what I knew and could do for the company. Tomorrow everything was going to change.