Today the bank job is going nuts. Mr. Wonka, the CEO of all the branches in North America, is coming for a board meeting. He has a reputation for firing people for stupid shit, so everyone is walking on eggshells. It was like something out of “The Devil Wears Prada”, when Miranda Priestly first shows up to the office and everyone is running around to prepare themselves.
The people that look like slobs on any other day are all of a sudden looking professional. All day people have been coming up to me say “The president is coming! Are you ready?!” The garage manager, Peter, who never seems to do any work was on the first floor of the parking garage cleaning each space that the CEO and his friends will occupy. There was caution tape all over the place. The maintenance guy was wearing slacks. Slacks! The guy has to work in dirt and grime all day and he has to wear slacks! People that usually would walk around like big shots are all scurrying to make sure their house is in order so that they appear worthy in the eyes of the great Mr. Wonka. My almost 400 pound boss, Sandra, actually wore a dress shirt that covers her side fat. She called me into her office to advise me to stay out of sight. I’ve worked for her for three years and Sandra knows me well enough, so it’s probably a good idea. I’m hanging out in the vacant building next to the bank writing this blog and watching episodes of “24”.
This experience is teaching me a couple things. The first is that I love power. You don’t have to be the CEO of a major bank to have it, but seeing people act like this for the presence of one man makes me love the idea of power all the more. It makes me anxious to start my own company to get a taste of it. The second is that I know I made the right decision in my quest to be free of working paycheck jobs. No matter how high I’d get in a company, there’s always someone higher than me that I’d have to answer to. I imagined working at a place for 10 years, and then some big shot comes into my office and observes that I’m wearing the wrong tie and fires me. What can I do? Nothing. I’ll be out on the street looking for someone else to find value in my work. Fuck that. My ego could never let that happen, and it needs to be free of the shackles that come with paycheck work.
I choose not to judge these people. Though I still believe I’m better than everyone else, I understand that not everyone wants to go out on a limb to start their own company. Working a 9-5 job is actually good for some people, as some will need that kind of structure in their lives—like Brooklyn Mike for example. But I personally see it as a waste of life. Who knows how many years was shaved off my life due to my illness and treatments? I’d never consider spending my remaining years being at the beck and call of anyone. It feels wrong and I need to get out of it soon. I’ll make my mistakes, like moving someone into my apartment without enough of a security deposit. But to do something else? Hell no. I’m in this until the end, no matter how bitter or sweet it will be. Looking at the alternatives only reinforces that truth.
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