As I sit in my office chair and wait for the computer to turn on, I ponder what is next for me?
Is life in a cubicle it for me?
Then I think of all the people right now that don't even have jobs.
Then I think of the people that actually have the virus.
It could be a lot worse.
But should the measuring factor for my pain be whether other people have it worse?
If so, I could argue other people have it better.
Plus, thinking of other's misfortunate had always seemed odd to me.
"They're worst off, so I'm good."
Well, how do you think they feel about being the bad side?
I certainly wouldn't want my misfortune to be fuel for someone else.
As I stare at the black screen of my computer, I see myself staring back.
Half my face has been covered for over 9 months now.
This gray mask is now part of my uniform, part of my image.
I don't have to "fix myself up" for work
(Which is a whole issue in itself)
But I also can't smile
I also can't breathe freely
My voice is muffled
But it's necessary to protect myself and everyone around me.
So I shrug and return to my phone to wait.
Then my mind travels to another place
This time what I will do for the day
Next, what I will do tomorrow
Next, what next year will be like
I feel like I'm in an ocean just constantly swatting away waves so I can focus on my journey.
If I focus too much on a wave, it turns into a whirlpool.
And then I'm gone.
Finally, the doorbell rings and I go into robot mode.
Kind of like a shortcut to pause my brain.
Doesn't work for long, though
As I notice the person in front of me is talking and I missed half the monologue.
What is next for me? Is life in a cubicle it for me?
I'm in a whirlpool.