There’s sigarettes, a sparrow and me, and I don’t even smoke. It’s a rainy day and I stand on this busy busstation. Actually I don’t want to leave, but somehow “I have to”.
While the rain is pouring down, I drop my bag at a bench. The bench is not wet, but I refuse to sit down. Failure, is spinning in my head, failure. Everyone seems to be able to work something out, be good in something, and here I am – giant failure of the world.
I can’t do my job, I’m too slow, it’s too messy in my head. I’m good in researching, I know, but I can’t put limits. Somehow things need to be black and white to understand, but I know it’s impossible and I always find the exceptions. And I can’t deal with them.
On social media, my eyes pick up signs. Of people who do better than me, of people who seem to fit better , for people who do meaningful things. Here I am, I think, trying to make things work, but failing all the time.
For the first time since my job started, I had a terrible day. Nothing worked out. I felt confused. I wasn’t able to function like I should. I felt that I should give up on the job: I can’t do it, it’s too complicated for me, was all I thought for a while.
I didn’t quit. I just drove home, and I guess I will start again tomorrow.
A brand new day. A brand new day for a nobody like me. Emptiness. Meaningless.
What’s the point?