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The Possibility to Choose

I woke up late this morning: I forgot to set the alarm and I slept some hours more than usual.

I woke up happy, anyway, and rested (probably I needed it) and I replanned my day: no training today, maybe I will catch up tomorrow; and maybe I will walk to work so I can still do some km.

So, shorting the way to don’t waste other time, I realised I was walking the same road as when I was going to work. And, as if I “had” to walk there, I realised I left there some of my thoughts and maybe it was time to come back to pick them up.

Blessed 7th of December

A year ago I wrote on my journal:

“The bomb blasted at work! At home early – stress – union…It’s the turning point!”

A year ago it happened what brought me to take a radical, drastic and, for many people, irresponsible decision: to leave my job to get out from that cage I was dying in, and take my life back!

Things weren’t going well for long time already, actually were going pretty bad: I was sleeping shortly and badly because of nightmares, and during the nights I was waking up all the time thinking about work and stressing tasks to do; even during weekends or evenings with my family my mood could rapidly flip because, don’t know why, my mind suddenly could “bring me back” to my office, to my asshole colleague, to my hated boss.

New Horizons

I’ve just arrived at work, as usual I’m the first.

Sunny day, the morning jogging has brought me back to life: I’m feeling energetic, happy, in a fantastic mental and physical condition.

After few hours I’m starting to feel my happiness going down: the work environment, as a vampire, sucks the joy out of me.

Lost Time and Not

Time flies fast and relentless.
I realised it by looking at the statistics of this site and seeing how little I wrote in the last few months.
I realise it now, thinking it’s already Tuesday, and this week, like the previous one, is just flying away.
It seems like a full life, but I can not accept and cannot perceive any positive vibrations from this optimistic view of the working week.

Years Won’t Come Back

He got out of one of the bathrooms at the office. Deadened silence and the cold white of the neon-light.

He approached one of the five sinks lined up on the front wall to rinse his hands and face. Perhaps it would help him to finally wake up from his numb.

He looks at himself at the mirror, grinning.

Flashback.

And Then?

We spend time trying to kill the time, this is the point.
After the years and all those stages imposed by the society and the family, we find ourselves in our 20s or 30s, already addicted and swallowed by the working life. We take our first responsibilities, our duties as a good citizen, and we find ourselves almost unconscious, tied up and involved with the system, the community, and the institutions around us (the same things we might have tried to fight or to evade just a few years before …).

Money Can’t Buy Happiness

A few years ago, during the lunch break, I was talking to a colleague, mostly complaining about our job. As often happens in workplaces, where one feels more as companions of misfortune than just colleagues, we were deploring our job and, in particular, our salary that was always too low compared to the amount of duties and responsibilities we had.

The Work and The Utopia of Doing Nothing

I’ve been working almost 20 years. I did a bit of everything, so many different jobs and only on rare occasions I felt really satisfied and fulfilled (and only for short time).

Most of the time I found myself cursing the job and all the hours I was spending (wasting?) there, in a everlasting countdown waiting for the end of day, the weekend, the holidays…

Like many other people, for what I know by talking with friends and colleagues, I was working there but I was actually dreaming to be somewhere else, mostly just wishing to be home and relax instead.