Daybreak

He lay in bed, fighting hard to go back to sleep. The pale, pink light of dawn was starting to permeate the thin blue curtains that shielded him from the morning and all that a new day brought with it. Then he heard a bird chirp… and with an inward groan he knew it was no use struggling. It was here. In a surge, the thoughts came, first one, then another, till they became a deluge, a swirling whirlwind of mental missiles that hurtled through his head, some more menacing than others, but each making him wince in mental agony.

I hate this… I hate my job… I want to quit! I have to quit! I hate that indifferent, removed excuse for a manager… I have no small talk for those gossiping, clannish coworkers … I hate the grey carpets and the whitewashed walls, the florescent lights and the clinical atmosphere… I hate the cafeteria with its greasy, unappealing food and its factory-like atmosphere, packed as it always is with the masses of humanity who have the misfortune to depend on this place for their livelihood… I hate the sneering supervisor with his superior attitude and his asinine outpourings of philosophy… I hate the unruly traffic and the free-for-all that is this city’s network of congested, chaotic roads… I hate the smug, facetious management that can flippantly dismiss months of labour by the lowly workers with a toss of the head, a shrug of the shoulders or a sharp word or two. I hate being bound by all of this, I hate not being my own master. I want to quit! I must quit! For my own sanity! How long can this go on?

But what will I do? If I start off on my own, will I make money? Will I be able to get people to come to me? What if I don’t? It’ll be the same story, only much worse, without a regular paycheck coming in every month! How will I support my family? But nothing ventured, nothing gained right? I should give it a try… Will I be any good, though? Am I really good at what I do? Am I only asking myself this question because I’m so fed up with everything else, that I think I should be fed up with my work too? Is that what is making me doubt myself? Or do I really need to get a lot better at what I do?

Maybe I should just get a job in another company… perhaps all I need is just a change of scene, a change of pace… But no! I can see it now… it might be nice for a couple of months or so, but then it will just be the same old thing… No, I need a drastic change… something dramatically different… Perhaps I should try for a job in a different industry. Something more paced out, so I can spend more time with my family and indulge my hobbies. But what of the salary? And what of bureaucracy? Ultimately, aren’t all organizations the same?

No, it’s best to be my own boss. But is this the right time? Am I ready for this? Doesn’t the very fact that I have to ask myself this, mean that I’m not? Perhaps it would be better to wait… What if I jump in too early, and sink? But I feel like I’m caught in a cesspool anyway!

Maybe I need a break. But a week or two isn’t going to cut it. Not even a month or two. And who’s going to give me a month or two anyway? I have to quit. Why can’t an opportunity just present itself? Something that says loudly and clearly – this is it! I am the path you must now take!

This isn’t helping. It’s only making me feel worse than I could have thought possible. I need to stop thinking. But what shall I do? I need to get out, I have to quit! What if…

The alarm started to ring, a jarring, unsympathetic beeping. His wife reached out to switch it off, then turned towards him. “Good morning,” she smiled sleepily.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

Another day. Another. Bleak. Day.