Atmospheric Changes and Preassure Fronts

It's been a significant amount of time since I've posted. I find this statement to be funny for two reasons. First, it's as if I'm assuming someone has actually read this. Second, it's as if I'm pretending that someone read this, and was interested enough to wonder when the next entry would be. Hah! And yet, I write as if I have an audience. Figure that one out.

Things at work have been tough. Good, Bad, Tough, Demoralizing. Some days are better than others, and not surprisingly, some people are handling this better than others. I am guessing I fall somewhere in the middle, but this may simply be due to my lack of ability to objectively evaluate exactly where I stand.

We come in, we do our work, we leave. It's not exactly that simple however; I still have not found the right balance between caring too much and just not giving a crap. I will say this: I feel as if me, and my coworkers, are the walking dead, the undead, if you will. This may sound outrageous, but I have my reasons. When taking the bus to work, sitting amongst all of those strangers also on their way to work, going about their lives, I feel as if I am living in a separated reality. See, they all go to work, and in doing so, are living their lives, moving forward, even if in a dead-end job. We are the working dead, the people who have jobs, and don't, at the same time.

When we go to work, we are waiting, waiting for the end. Waiting for a new beginning, but mainly, waiting for the end. Things are stagnant, we aren't moving forward, and it feels like running on a treadmill - exerting yourself beyond belief, but not getting anywhere at all. It's almost like we're working in a bubble. Sure, we could leave early. But most of us have yet to figure out our exact paths. I don't know about others, but before the announcement that we were to be laid off, I knew my path. Or I thought I did.

What I'm experiencing is probably what Alice felt, during a scene from Disney's adaptation of the famous Lewis Carrol novel. She's wandering through the forest, already feeling a little bit lost, only to discover that the path she was on had been erased entirely, both in front of her, and behind her. All that remained of it, was the little spot she was standing on.

And yet, I've started to develop a plan, one that I should have quite possibly be following all along. Somehow, I got lost, somewhere along the way I became distracted and lost sight of things. I am scared and excited about it, all at once. What is that famous saying? Something about how if it doesn't scare you a little bit, it isn't worth doing? Or if it doesn't scare you, it's too safe and you're not pushing yourself hard enough? I can't quite recall.

So back to the atmosphere at work. It's inexplicably indescribable in many cases. I go to work, and I'm met with a wry sense of humor, a bitter and disenchanted attitude, and a sadness that seems to permeate through the walls and seep under the doorways. We do try to turn things around, mostly through fun events and meetings. But really, who are we kidding? All we can do, is distract ourselves during these last days.

I want my last day to come so badly, and yet I know I will be bawling like a baby once it's here. It's such an odd sensation, to wish so desperately for the end and dread it all at once. It will mark the end of an amazing journey, a period in my life that I will always look back on and be thankful for the friends I made, for how it shaped me as a person, and for the life lessons it taught me. And I imagine, for a while, it will all be much too painful to revisit in any way.