Lost journal entry #2
As I wander the dark corridors of this empty office building, I ask myself if I’m happy. Will I ever be happy? Is this happiness? How do you define happiness?
As I dodge the slivers of light peeking in the windows, sticking to the shadows when I can, I ask myself if I’m lonely. Is isolation only bad when it begins to feel safer than the alternative? When sadness and loneliness start to feel like home, is that when I should be concerned?
As I avoid the eye contact of my few coworkers, and go out for a walk on my lunch break, my mask hides a frown. Is this really the new normal? Will my work load ever lighten? Will they continue to run a skeleton crew in an attempt to save money while driving the few of us that remain to the edge?
In all of this, I try to remember my privilege. I try to remind myself of the issues of the world, and keep myself aware. But it’s now 8:45 AM, and I’m already exhausted.