Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Paradise Part 17


Four weeks passed and RB heard nothing regarding the job interview.  He tried to remain optimistic.  As the saying goes, no news is good news.  As long as he wasn’t told no, he still had a chance.  Still, doubts crept in.  It had been nearly nine and a half years since he began working in The Bad Place.  He applied for a multitude of jobs with nothing to show for it.  He had some interviews, but no luck.  Nine plus years of negativity makes it hard to believe in hope.  Hope was for other people. 
As the work day was coming to a close, anger began to simmer in RB’s veins.  Again, his hopes were being smashed on the rocky shores of reality.  Even though he tried to temper his optimism, the mere prospect of finally escaping was intoxicating.  Instead, he was reminded again of the walls and bars separating him from life.  Working in this place was no life.  The thought of being there until he retired or died weighed on him but what choice did he have? 
He tried to find a different job inside and outside the company.  God was holding him back.  What other explanation could there be?  How else could this situation be explained?  RB knew he wasn’t the absolute best employee but felt few could be better.  He knew his immediate management and the executives for whom he worked appreciated his efforts.  The CEO sent notes of thanks from time to time.  One could say he was simply being nice.  However, RB recently was copied in on an email from the CEO which originated from the CEO of a partner airline.  In advising the partner airline RB would handle it, the CEO specifically mentioned RB was good at what he did.  RB was certain the comment wasn’t necessary but it made him happy. 
RB knew everyone who had hired him never regretted it.  In fact, he was positive they were happy to employ him.  So why was it so hard to get out?  God must want him there.  Didn’t God know how much the job scraped away at his soul?  It was such a millstone around his neck.  If God had an ultimate purpose, it was hard to see how there was a benefit. 
As RB pulled his things together to leave for the day, Matt appeared at the entrance to his cubicle and asked, “Hey, any news?”
“No, nothing.  Just crickets.”
“Oh, sorry.  No news is good news, right?”
“That’s what they say.”
“Well, I won’t hold you up.  Have a good night.”
“Thanks, you too.”
It angered RB that Matt stopped by.  If he knew Bill Dawson, couldn’t he ask what was going on?  Was Matt playing with him?  RB seethed as he left the cubicle.  As he walked to the elevator, the anger subsided.  As he walked out to his car, his emotions gave in to the deadening sadness that seemed to permeate his life for many years.  Again, he felt dead inside with no hope for life.  Tomorrow would be another day of people complaining that he would try to make happy. 
As he drove, RB thought, when will someone try to make me happy?  When will it be my turn?  Must I continue like this forever?

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