Life in Last Place: Chapter 1
That sick feeling prevails again. My body actually shakes as I prepare for the day ahead. Not with anticipation, not with excitement, but with fear. It requires a great deal of concentration to keep myself from cutting myself too much when I shave. I have a hard time shaving anyway, since I tend to not look at myself in the mirror much. Makes me wonder how often I walk about life with something on my face that I don’t even know about. Most people are too nice to say anything anyway. Just like me. I look at the clock again, 7:15 AM, I have to be at work by 8:00 AM. It takes me 15 minutes to drive there, and I’m already done getting ready. Why do ties always look like they aren’t tied correctly? I fidget nervously with the knot of the tie trying to make it look better, but the more I fidget with it, the worse it looks, so I end up leaving it alone after a while.
School wasn’t any better in terms of my panic problems. If anything it was probably worse. People just have it in for you during the school days. A sort of school pecking order, and I always seemed to be somewhere near the bottom. I generally lived by the principle that if I didn’t bother anyone, then people generally wouldn’t bother me. That mostly seemed to work out, staying out of people’s way was probably the only thing that kept me alive.
I’ve never had any close friends, and after graduating college and getting my degree, I took the first opportunity to disconnect myself from my family. My family operates in a strange fashion. Or it seems strange to me anyway. It’s probably pretty normal really, just everyone is too worried about appearances to admit it. Everyone talks behind everyone else’s back, and yet they still smile and tell stories at the required family events. I hate family events. Some person’s birthday, some national holiday, somebody gets married, and so on. I’ve never been close to my family as far as I can tell, but everyone still acts friendly, since we’re family and all. I do my best to avoid such situations at any possibility.
My eye shifts towards the clock again, 7:20, time to go I suppose. As much as I try to convince myself that everything will be okay today, I have a hard time believing it. It seems like every time I’m on the verge of convincing myself that things will be okay, I end up having a bad day. I get chewed out at work for some pointless thing or another, some co-worker gives me grief, whatever. I often feel like life is merely leading me on, letting me get comfortable, than tugging the rug out from under my feet.
Pulling into the parking lot at work, I oddly feel a little calmer. I glance up at the office building, worrying thoughts flashing through my head. Will everything go okay today? As much as I try to convince myself of that, I know how things usually go. Here goes nothing.