It started like any other day, ya know, going to work. I work for the city government, downtown. Which I’ve always liked. I like working in that old building. Did you know that it used to be a prison? Like back in the old western days, with horses and tumbleweeds, before any of this was here. So, I like that, and I like the fact that I have my own parking space. But, yeah, just another day. Maybe I was feeling a little stressed, I had a lot of work to get done. Nothing critical or vital, reports and stuff like that. Jessica was out of the office, and Henry wouldn’t be back until after the weekend, so I had our back corner of the office to myself. Great for listening to music and podcasts. I listened to a couple of playlists I’ve been putting together. Easy listening. Work music, something that I can put in the back of my mind while looking at spreadsheets and answering emails. I did hop over to Jessica’s cubicle to borrow her speaker since its volume is so granular and I can get the sound just right without needing my headphones.

In the morning I talked with Erica and Eileen about purchasing orders for this contract we just picked up from Havet’s. Then it was break, so I put my feet up and scrolled through my phone. Had a banana. I saw a trailer for a new movie coming out this summer about a guy sailing across the Pacific on a raft, except this would be a period film. Or, I think it would be. I think it’s supposed to be set in like the 1800s or something like that. The trailer kept showing waves after waves wrecking this guy’s raft and him scrambling to stay afloat, his raft barely holding together. Then it was back to work on this spreadsheet for my boss.

Then lunch. A salad from home. Some chips, salt and vinegar I believe, if I remember correctly. It must have been, those are my favorite. A soda. Ate at my desk, like usual. No one really uses the conference room for lunch anymore, now that we are trying to get set up with video calls with our counterparts back east. I’m sure that’ll change soon. Some of the folks from accounting and shipping get together for lunch in the warehouse across the street, but I’ve never really been interested. Then lunch was over, and I hopped back online and kept working. Erica came by around two to let me know we were having a little celebration for Tony who is leaving us for another company. I guess that did happen that day, the party. If you could even call it that. Cake and juice and candy and awkward standing. I could tell even Tony didn’t want to do this, the way he was staying in the corner of the room. Eventually, and I don’t know how this happened, but a line formed, kinda like when you meet the married couple after their ceremony to express best wishes. Somehow, I ended up in line next to Brent. And with Brent, that meant listening to him talk about his cats and his newest fountain pen. That man is obsessed with fountain pens. He has one that lights up at the tip so you can see clearly each letter, each word, while you write. He tells me that he has five hundred pens, which I knew. It’s always the first thing he says to anyone. But then he got on this tangent about how the economy can’t keep up with the demand for natural resources like marble and timber, and how that translates to rising prices for some of his most prized pens, the ones honed and shaped from marble and inlaid with gold and so on. Anyways, I’m next to talk with Tony and so I’m saying congrats for moving on and the better position, and I’m asking him about how the change feels, and then eventually, after about a minute, he starts talking about how long he has been here and how long I’ve been here, and how I’ll most likely retire here, and I got this urge to leave, to end the conversation. So I went to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, I just washed my hands. The hot water felt nice. Working with computers makes your hands cold, or at least mine. There’s been a light out in the bathroom for weeks now, and so I couldn’t really see my face, but my eyes and nose seemed so stark, my clean shaved chin. I guess between washing my hands and talking with Tony there didn’t seem to be more to do at the party. I already had some cake while in line. Juice can upset my stomach, so I stayed clear. I suppose I felt uncomfortable. The conversation was done.

I never really saw myself as someone who would stay at this company for the long haul. I’ve always wanted to start my own business, but something always got in the way. It’s not like it bugs me so much. I have it good. The pay is great, the time off makes sense. I like my coworkers. The work is office work, but I don’t mind. It beats working in the heat. I used to do that as a landscaper. Sunburns and dehydration. Planting flowers and laying down gravel to stop people from sleeping in the beds. I got that parking spot. Retirement is planned out. Yeah, I got nothing to complain about.

Less than five years if everything goes to plan. I actually have an app on my phone that is a countdown until retirement. It breaks it down into years, months, days, hours, minutes, seconds. It’s kinda nice. Sometimes I look at it when I’m home.

After work, I logged off, said my goodbyes as I walked out. And, yeah, made it back to my car, and it was sunny out still, which was nice. The shadows from the limbs of the locust trees waved in the breeze, and it was pleasant. Rob was pulling his car out when I got in mine. I put the key in, but I didn’t have the energy to turn the car on. I just sat there for maybe a couple minutes, almost in a daze and then I started crying. Like, real tears, alligator tears as my mom would’ve said, and I held onto the steering wheel like it was a life jacket. I didn’t care or even know if anyone saw me, but no one has said anything since, and I didn’t see anyone at the time. I cried and heaved. It was like a purge, a release. Ya know, I can’t remember the last time I cried, especially like that. Probably when Dad passed. And that feels like a lifetime ago. It’s funny, I was sad, I was empty, and all of that hit me, it seemed, in the car. I’ve eaten meals, taken trips along the coast, had sex, cursed at other drives and hit that steering wheel in frustration so many times, but this felt different. I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t have anything left. Left to do, left to go, left to explore that seems reasonable. The days keep coming, and I just want to say to each day hold up, just wait. Is this because I’m getting older? I can’t believe that. Maybe, I need to explore myself. I’ll tell you what I’d really like is a vacation, ya know? But after I collected myself, I turned the car on and drove home, no music, no news, just drove and really paid attention to the street signs, to the people walking on the sidewalk, even the tread of the car in front of me at the light.