the well-paid nightmare

Now I know what the dream was about.

I'm sitting at home right now, just like I was on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of this week, when I inexplicably stayed home for no reason other than I didn't want to go back to work.

I had a gut feeling about something.

I returned yesterday to find that they had sacked one of my supervisors. This came on the heels of the foreman getting canned as well.

I knew my time was coming, but the question for me was: Do I quit now or let them fire me?

I secretly wanted them to fire me, so I could collect unemployment and live like a bohemian for the rest of the year on the money I saved from this profitable but ultimately thankless job.

Looks like I got my wish. I was laughing on the drive home, marveling at how things were turning out.

You have to understand: I felt a great big weight lift from my shoulders the minute I got into my car and sped off to the bank to deposit my last paycheck.

The only good thing about the job was the money. Oh, and my co-workers were really nice. But the management assholes were just that: assholes. Same as every company. And the place is losing money fast: I am one of 30 layoffs that hit the factory this week.

But what's worse than all of that is what the job made me into: a joyless, listless jerk-off who alienated everyone around him.

At least I got a taste of what having a high-paying job is like. I'm here to tell you: it sucks. It's worse than a low-paying job because you feel honor-bound to stick with it, even if the work you are doing is absolutely brainless.

I knew what I was doing when I stayed home this week... or did I? I kept kicking myself around the house, wondring why I was doing this to myself. But now I know the answer.

I was trying to save myself.

It worked.

And now I know why today seemed like everything I did up until 1pm was my last: every step, every glance, every breath felt like I was being led to the execution.

But now...

Now I am free, until the next slave job comes along to box me in.

Until then, I am sleeping in, staying up late, partying it up, and reveling in the fact that life is too short to give a goddamn about overpriced prefab housing.

And what's more: I have the new story angle I was looking for, but it will have to wait until I get some other things done first.

Yes, this morning when I woke up from that dream... maybe the dream was trying to tell me what to expect. Maybe it was warning me, trying to tell me... but I think in the back of my head I knew... Shit, I've known since June!

The well-paid nightmare is over. I am free to be me again.

I missed me. I'm glad to have me back.