The Playground

pexels-photo-274679 the playground

Dear Nameless,

I had started writing you an article. Actually, I have made three attempts and ended up with three unfinished articles that I really don’t like the sound of.

It’s hard for me to write anything other than what I’m feeling. Hard to induce humour and joy into a subject that has been a constant source of worry and anguish for over six months more now.

I am so very stressed and completely tired. I feel trapped in a rat race. A pointless merry go round.  So much labour expended for so little if any return.

Lol. It’s horrible. And I know what you will say. So this is me doing the very thing you asked of me-writing. Pay attention to the prose and grammar. Ignore the emotion. Or perhaps not actually. Feel all of the emotion. Just don’t attach it to the pretty vivacious girl you like. The one who wears a bright smile and chants optimistic quotes like a mantra. The girl I wish to be always and not just in Glenmorangie induced moments J

So look. I love my job. …at least most of the time. 95% of the time actually. Which is an interesting turn of events because I had designed things so that I would traverse a path of life far from the business world- deep in the furrows of human suffering, giving aid and medical care in some remote village. Healing wounds, aches and pains. Being useful.

Sigh.  I had it all figured out.

Instead, I find myself playing against giants and dancing with idiots in my own twisted version of Alice in Wonderland. Only mine being a dramatic pantomime of one’s struggle to make ends meet. I’m not exaggerating! The business world is much like a grand scale playground. With all of its childish antics.  We all play nice. We are not vulgar or outwardly rude to each other. Oh no no no ! We’re much too sophisticated for that. We’ve developed a more complex form of communication. A whole other language within the English vocabulary, using the same polite sounding words to convey cutting insults or one’s utter disregard of the other person’s professional competence.

And much like on any other playground, someone gets upset, stomps their foot and storms out of the board room. Mouth drawn in a firm line (grown up pout) and fists clinched. You are not friends anymore! THE DEAL IS OFF!

The worst times however, are when you come face to face with a bully. But I’m not even going to go into that. I have actually digressed from the point completely and honestly, at this point, I have forgotten what point I was trying to make?  J

Ah yes. There was never meant to have a point to the content of this writing. Just mindless rambling.

love,

Me.