Tuesday landed hard like a bullet to the brain. Long weekends were always better when Friday was the extra day.  Gave you time to re-hydrate and recuperate. Sebastian slammed three extra strength Advil into his system and chased them hard with what was left of the weekends sustenance, a half can of flat Pepsi.

He grabbed the dreaded phone and powered up for the first time in three days. The screen came to life with notification after notification. He resisted the urge to fire the beast right through the window.

He was sick. Not just hung-over, but truly sick. Who in their right mind would sacrifice any semblance of life for a 24/7 career in sales? Idiots, assholes and workaholics…that was who. The only question that remained, was which one was he?




2 thoughts on “Sick

  1. This was me 10 years ago when I quit my sales job and went into something else. You captured the lost feeling of hating yourself and your lot of life.

    Thanks for the reminder

  2. Natasha, I feel that I’ve been there! “Idiots, assholes and workaholics..” I was at least two of those three! It is such a sad existence as a corporate slave, and the recovery time required to fully acknowledge the addiction, to overcome the denial and to attain the integrity of a true perspective on it, is measured in years! I am grateful to have lived to tell the tale.

    I love the language you used in this piece: down to earth and yet teetering on the edge of florid; on the verge of exploding! This is poetry in motion.

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