Under the Anvil of the Sun

The other day I took my normal lunch break during an unusually difficult day at work. Walking out into the warm sun was, at first, disheartening. The last thing I wanted to face was sweat running down the sides of my face trying to escape to the corners of my neck. Relief came over me as a cool breeze moved pass my face. It was going to be a nice lunch break.

Everyday I need to spend at least an hour out of the office. This day I was very tempted to make it an all day affair. Deadlines were not being met, responsibilities were being dropped, technical issues becoming overwhelming, and no one accepting any accountability was the order of the first half of the day. The cool breeze was refreshing.

Though it was a nice day I decided to eat my lunch in my car. However, pre-requisites to this are the windows will be down and the sunroof open. I pulled the car into a remote and shady part of the parking lot. A ham, turkey, and cheese sandwich never looked so good.

As I crumbled up the packaging that once held my lunch a few minutes before, I noticed an older man approximately 20 yards ahead of me. He was working diligently trimming the hedges of the office landscaping and cleaning out the flowerbeds. He must have been working hard because he was sweating profusely. It was as if the cool breeze did not reach him.

Then I began to wonder. I hate it when I wonder about things, because it makes me face ideas that only create feelings of insignificance in me. My resistance was weakened and the wondering began.

Was this hard working man any different than me? He works his butt off to beautify the surroundings in order for the company to display a professional appearance to its customers. I wondered if he enjoyed his job. Does he face landscaping problems like uncontrollable insects that destroy the lawn, dying trees and flowers from lack of rain, trash left by inconsiderate employees, and having to work in extreme weather conditions? Of course he continues to endure this in order to bring home a 'reward' so he can feed, shelter, and clothe his family.

The feared thoughts followed the wondering. What I do is not much different than this man. Just because I sit in an air-conditioned office, wear comfortable clean clothing, and work in a high profile job, I was in the exact same position. I, too, worked by butt off to make sure the company looks good to its customers. Sure, I may make a little more money than this person, but for what satisfaction and in the end does it really matter? We push hard to try to get 'ahead' but in reality all of us are doing the same thing but at various levels. Society then dictates who is a higher life form.

Then the depression hit. Have I been wasting my life? Should I be doing more? Should I be doing less? Maybe it was even time to change my career? Can I finally do what I really wanted to do? Am I just a specimen in a social laboratory?

Ultimately, I decided that I could either continue the fall into despair or follow what seemed to be the only choice that I had before me. The decision was simple.

I ran over the old man with my car.