Got to work early today. With a new sense of purpose. Full of someone else’s joie de vivre. Time to show my worth. Had another look at the formal warning in my inbox. Such bullshit. I don’t need this.
There are plenty of other jobs. Ones closer to home. Ones with managers I can tolerate. Better yet, no manager. It’s about time I was leading again. I opened a job site and found a decent-looking hybrid role that promised a flat hierarchy and gentle onboarding.
Seemed like a decent place to start. Clicked through to apply. Uploaded my CV. Made the font bigger. Improved my education by dropping the Brookes after Oxford. Then it asked me to re-enter all my work experience.
For fuck’s sake.
The office was cold. They’ve decided it’s still summer and haven’t turned the heating on yet. There was no milk in the pantry either, so I tried a black coffee. Bitter. Might start drinking it like that. I bet James Bond drinks it black.
Opened up another job posting. Then another. One mentioned “stakeholder mapping”, which sounds a bit like urban hunting. My news feed had an article about a man with an artificial heart. It whooshes blood around the body rather than beating. Fewer moving parts means fewer things can break.
But he has no pulse.
A Slack message popped up from Jadyn.
Half twelve Monday still good? 🌵 is looking forward to coming home.
Wouldn’t miss it. Tell him to pack light.
She reacted with a laughing face. Wonder what she has on a fry-up. She seemed sensible about sandwich construction, so presumably no beans. Hope she doesn’t put avocado on it.
Someone arrived with milk to great applause. They can keep it. Black coffee or no coffee. Went back to the job search and edited my cover letter. Made it worse.
If your heart doesn’t beat, how do you know you’re not about to die?
In the afternoon, there was a meeting about targets. Someone presented slides while I counted my heartbeats. Is it normal for it to skip? At the end, the boss asked for my thoughts. I said, “Go back to basics. Review what isn’t working before we start adding more.”
He said I was right. Then he asked me to help lead a review team. Not surprising. Despite the warning, he knows what I’m capable of. He’s scared to lose me.
Filled out a few more job applications anyway. One wanted a personal statement of no more than 500 words. I gave them 312 perfect ones.
Clocked off at half three and walked home imagining the whoosh of blood in my chest. Had penne arrabbiata for dinner. Something I saw Tim Lovejoy eat on Sunday Brunch.
Went to bed early and read Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. Underlined a few bits I’d change.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Still alive.
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