Reverse Thinking

Walking to my cubicle this morning, I was in a reverse frame of mind. In my mind's eye, I was looking back over the years of my life. These days, I often find myself in a nostalgic and reflective mood. I guess that's not surprising, since there's more of life behind me than in front of me.

Before leaving for work this morning, I said goodbye to my life partner, the person I've been with for thirty-seven years (married for thirty-five). I walked out the front door of the house we've lived in for twenty-seven years; got into a thirty-four year old car (which we have owned for twelve years), and drove to work. All the while thinking back over the years; remembering when we met, when we married, when we bought that house and this car; remembering our life together. I felt warm, full, rich, and satisfied as this wave of nostalgia washed over me.

I arrived at work, parked in my usual spot, got out of the car and walked into the building that I've been walking into every business day for twenty-nine years. I said good morning to the guard in the lobby, walked to my cubicle and plugged my laptop into the docking station. While waiting for it to boot up, I went upstairs to get a cup of coffee. Most of this site is empty now. I remember when it was full, bustling, busy. Now it's silent, and mostly deserted. Sad. At the peak, there were about three thousand people working here. Now there are about three hundred. First, manufacturing went to Malaysia; then, finance and backoffice work went to India; then, IT was outsourced to a third party and the work went mostly to India.

I'm still here, and I often wonder why. Sometimes I take credit for being flexible, turning loose of old skills and acquiring new ones through continuing education as the work environment shifted. But I'm not exactly the model of a committed careerist. I'm not a "company man". I don't worship the gods of capitalism or the corporation. Sometimes, I think I'm still here just because of dumb luck; or maybe I'm just lost in the bowels of the corporation and nobody knows I'm still here.

Whatever the reason, here I am. Still coming to the cubicle every day, occupying myself with the tedium of cubicle work.

I read the Dilbert cartoon on my calendar for inspiration, then turn to my computer screen and begin reading email. A meeting reminder pops up, telling me I have to get on the phone in five minutes.

My reverie shattered, I shift focus and adopt the persona of a corporate cubicle worker.

When the day is over, I'll return to being a real person. Tomorrow, I'll be back in the cubicle again.

I'll commit to doing this for just one more day. That's what I've been telling myself every day for all these years.