Pass beyond a security door and enter large room to meet the time clock. The clock is a Nazi but that is okay, I have to punch it daily. I sit in a 4X5 cubic space in the center of the room. The enclosure has no window to eliminate the distraction of scenery and time. Pictures of beaches fill Bob’s cubicle wall but time carry a knife and comes by every hour to prick our necks. A reminder that our lives lost time. Time kills.
Gluten-free Jeanine silently finishes the last danish from the coffee table. This room would be a quiet place if, not for the tap, tap, tapping on the keyboards.
I monitor the monitors monitoring me. An audiovisual stand-off. As artificial lighting overhead illuminates. Jane tolerates a migraine daily. My calendar is my conscience that ponders what I ponder: garbage in – garbage out.
Dave got fired yesterday. Vultures circle his unmanned desk. I got dibs on the multi-colored markers.
From the break room, the smell of burnt popcorn wafts. It is the perfume of the damned. I scrap together six coins to pay the dealer’s new price: A-3, Snicker bar, please. Office refrigerator stores memories of employees long gone. Passive aggressive notes mark our slow descent into hell. Keep your hands off my sandwich – Phil. Boss brings her special creamer to work and signs her name on it. A sharpie will not stop me. I dump half in the sink and leave a thank you note from Phil.
I trick myself everyday by saying I belong here and this is what I deserve. My therapist says I’m in an abusive relationship with my job.
Yesterday, there was a training video about office shooters. Not sure, if it was prevention or tutorial. Will see how the next evaluation goes?
Res Wonderland 