Unhappiness in Slavery
Tick-tick-ticking away.
You wake up. Rush out of bed.
Look at your watch. Time's ticking away. The time is now.
You rush out of your room.
Clock is ticking, no time to waste.
You breathe for the first time after a minute or so, because you forgot you needed to.
Walk the dog. She needs to go out, soon. The time for her to go is now. The time for you to go out with her is now. Hasty steps, no time to breathe the smell of morning dew, you have to rush, you have to make good time.
You need to get back soon. Clock is ticking, what are you waiting for?
The kid wakes up with crusty eyes and no willingness to help you out. Help you out? Doing what? Run against the clock, tick-tick-ticking away -- your life one second at a time.
You rush the kid, needs to shape up, because you're already late. You can't let that happen, can you?
Morning routine, you load up your day, you're going to start afresh, you're going to make good time, you're not losing a minute. Minute? A second, for fuck's sake, what are you on about? You can't be late.
Alarm clock goes off, is the kid ready? "Are you ready?"
Not ready, what the fuck? What are you on about? How can you not be ready? How dare you not be ready?
Put kid into car. Seatbelt on, hastily, move your arse.
Get into car. Moment of respite. Remember you're human. Talk to kid like human. Breathe in.
What the fuck, slow car? Get the fuck out of the way, slow car.
"I love you, kid."
"Get the fuck out of the way, slow fucking car!" (...) "Daddy loves you, kid. I really love you."
"I know, Daddy. Can you give me some speed, though, Daddy?"
"We're right on time, baby. We're right on time."
To get to school right on time. At the same time we always get there, otherwise the Universe stops spinning, for crying out loud.
Breathe out.
"Hop out of the car, kid. Hold my hand, my dear, but get out of the car, fast, because Daddy's already late" (I'm not.)
(For fuck's sake, what would I be late for?)
Gives Daddy a hug, "I'll miss you, Daddy." Fuck. I'll miss you, kid. If I give myself time to remember that I'll miss you, so inside my head I am.
Drive back, need to get back home at the exact minute I initially intended, even if I get stuck behind a slow car and need to make up for it.
Drive like I stole the car. Alarm clock tells me I have a call in 10 minutes, as I park the car.
Need to whip out my notebook. Duly noted.
Jumpstart my daily notes, need my agenda for the day.
Sound stressed on first morning call, but why the fuck?
Breathe in.
Next call in 10 minutes while you're still in your first call.
Need to get my shit together, went to bed too late last night while I intended to prepare for this one, so I didn't get my shit together beforehand. What the fuck were you thinking, past me?
End call early, 2 minutes to prepare. Read notes. Scribble some unreadable shit, because you're hyped up and trembling, you drank too much last night.
Fucking hell.
Breathe out before getting into call. Compose yourself.
You don't feel pain, you're bulletproof, no one can touch you. You won't get angry this time.
Breathe in. Call starts. 30 seconds in, you get angry. Fuck's sake, man. All over again.
Scribble furiously. (You used to type furiously, but people heard it.)
Call ends, you're exhausted. How the fuck are you exhausted, so early in the morning? Fucking weakling.
Need to get your shit together, you don't have your shit together. Why are you thinking about one two three four five six things at the same time yet getting none of them done?
Look at calendar. Fuck, this is everything I have to do today. I'm already behind, yet I've been up for four hours now.
Made this promise yesterday, but when I made it, I was already late. It'd been a few days before that when you'd promised you'd get to it, you little shit.
Breathe out.
Smile. Scribble furiously. Your hand hurts because you're putting so much pressure on your pen. You notice you're trembling. Maybe you need a drink. It's 5 o'clock somewhere, right? But fuck, clock's still showing 10.
Immerse yourself in it. Focus. Why can't you focus? Is it just because you can't prioritize thinking about a few of the several things you have in your mind at the same time? You only have one two three four five six seven things in your head at the same time, why don't you believe in multitasking?
Look at clock. 10 minutes have passed and you only thought about one two three four five six seven eight things, why not dedicate a full minute thinking about each of them? You need to be more organized.
You need to be more organized. Your calendar has no slots left for breathing, but you need to get your shit together, the granularity of your slots is not right, you're not being efficient.
Shit. You spent more time thinking about your inefficiency than trying to be efficient. 20 minutes have gone by, and you haven't done anything but think about the one two three four five six seven eight nine things you should have thought about.
Breathe in.
Do you get a prize once you get to ten?
Is your prize booze?
Do you reward yourself, when you don't deserve it?
You can't even look at the things you do easily. You can't start there, because after that everything will seem hard.
You still try it, because you read somewhere that you need to start with something easy to feel accomplished so you can then tackle the harder tasks. And when you stop, you should stop with one that's easy enough for you to pick up from.
What if none of your one two three four five six seven eight nine ten tasks are easy?
Oh, fuck. You reached ten.
You can stop now, your day is done. You're rewarding yourself now. You get to...
BREATHE. THE. FUCK. OUT.
(It's not even noon.)