Another work day commenced. Same ritual: clothes, shoes, lunch box, 18-minute drive (plus or minus a few grunts pending on the sequences of the stop lights), parking and 2-block walk to the office. All was well. I continued on with the rest of setup: tea, email, phone messages. Finally, the bottom right corner of my computer displayed 4:15 and there it came, the same anxiety, almost anguish, as my ear listened for the sounds of door opening and the intruding footsteps.
I realize that I do work in a 21st century IT world, open floor plan with cells or cubicles, where the comfort (or concept) of privacy simply does not exist. It is exactly that reason that I found my morning solitude so primal to my emotional well-being. On top of it, there are parking issue and insomnia which made my “early to rise (arrive)” a no-brainer solution. When I first started changing the hour, I bumped into another early riser a few times at the coffee lounge and engaged in a few cordial coffee-tea conversation sessions. It was then around 5am. Our social rendezvous, instead of promoting an amiable kinsmanship, ironically evolved to be a waging war as he (or I?) started shifting the arriving time for earlier. Before long, my competitive instinct was baited such that the alarm clock went through a confusing sequence of adjustment, until 3:23 finally settled the dispute. For a while, peace finally arrived on B521, where I had my 30 minutes of alone-time before my rival, now co-owner of the temporary peace domain, came in at 4:30. After that, we had another 20 minutes before the 3rd runner reached the winner’s circle. My ear soon learned to distinguish the footsteps at certain time. 5:10 was S, who religiously turned off the lights at his quarter. 5:30-ish belonged to neighbor T, and then neighbor B who could be rowdy at times due to the inconvenience of next-door location. After that, we have 5:55 for E, 6:05 for M, and so forth. All was well. The hopelessly impulsive, at the same time impossibly rigid rebel was thankfully tamed with the help of a dose of solitude and the clock-wise routines of the others’ arriving.
If only life proved to be predicable ever after! It started with neighbor B, with allotted arrival time 5:35, decided to disturb the perfect sequence. With a sneaking 5 minutes here and there, he reset his clock, against my wishes, to 5:15. Meanwhile the 3rd arrival joined the treachery by inching in to the war-zone, switching her time from 4:50 to 4:30. Such rebellious defiance was not only unthinkable but also excruciating. Eventually the shock did taper off, only to be replaced with persistent pain. Morning after morning, I go through the same anguish, awaiting the disturbed sequence with unresigned indignation.
How and why have I been stuck in this predicament? I have to wonder. Is it my own competitive and controlling nature to blame? Granted if I did own my fault, I have to add that I am not without company here. The all-wise Chinese proverb does say: “One hand claps not”. There would have been no war or competition if there had been one party all along. Recall, specifically, the first instigation started with the other early riser, AKA “light man”, who shifted his time from 5 all the way to 4:30 upon my first appearances. What would you do with rejection or provokes such as those except for joining in and fighting your honor as any good soldiers should? What of the other two defectors? Don’t they know once their time is set there is no excuse to change, especially when my mental, emotional well-being is at stake? What is it that people cannot embrace stability when everything is running perfectly (and most importantly, I am happy)?
I heaved a long breath as the door finally opened at 4:25 when light man came. There it started all over again: the new and undesired sequence. Changes are BAD. I muttered to myself, but “time heals all wounds”. Hopefully, and SOON, time will do her other magic: change the offensive ‘new’s back to old and then peace may finally arrive – both at B521 and most importantly, cubicle 20.
Let there be no more deviation henceforth, I pray.
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