The View

My view isn’t a great one. I sit at this desk and I stare at this computer. Day in and day out. This is the life I’ve chosen to lead. I take that back. This is the life I lead due to the choices I’ve made. That sounds a little more accurate. This is the life I’ve settled for.

Each day I’m given a list of things to do. Each day, I sit at this desk and I do those things. It’s what I’m paid for. It’s what keeps food on my table. It’s what keeps a roof over my head. It’s what keeps the clothes on my back.

And then there’s the view.

Yes, there are things to look at other than this computer. There are walls. There are bulletin boards. There are OSHA regulations and notices of wage requirements that the powers that be are forced to take up simply because there’s a government agency that says it’s so. There are coworkers that move about as if they have some place important to be, but I know better.

I know better because I’m here too. I do the same thing that they do. I watch them moving hurriedly from one part of the room to another, desperately seeking to complete their tasks quickly, as if that will make five o’clock arrive sooner. A little thing I learned in my first year, that sort of thing never works. Getting done with your work and having nothing to do only makes the seconds tick by all the slower.

Though, I suppose, watching these coworkers does provide a way to break up the monotony of my tedious to do list.

There are no windows. Windows would only serve to give us hope of a better world. Windows would only show us a glimpse of what is outside; a glimpse of freedom. Windows would not be conducive to productivity.

There are no motivational posters. It was decided that pictures of skydivers and kittens with happy phrases were also a mere distraction. Also, they seemed to be entirely unmotivational.

There are no pictures of families sitting on these desks. Personal touches have been outlawed in the office. Mostly because photos of anything that had nothing to do with the job at hand led to daydreaming and, thus, a loss of production.

So the view remains unchanged. I can sit in this chair and I can swivel around, but the view remains the same. All around me, it’s as if some television writer came in and decided to provide us with a Twilight Zone-esque reality to deal with. I’ll look at this same view for the rest of the day today. I’ll look at this same view when I come back tomorrow. Sometimes, I close my eyes at night, and I still see that same view as sleep carries me into dreams.

Here’s something new… This view through tears. Doesn’t help.

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