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The day after Sabrina’s party, I slept in really late, which rarely happens anymore. Sabrina said I could stay over, but I didn’t have my toothbrush, my pajamas or my favorite house slippers. The only thing that feeds my anxiety more than clutter or unplanned activities is not having my stuff. I cannot function without my stuff, so I stayed really late until I was okay to drive. I woke up groggy and couldn’t snap out of it for the next day. Weeks later, and I still can’t snap out of it. Whatever it is. I can’t fully explain it, but Chloe Dillon was a beacon of light leading me down a path I didn’t know I wanted to follow. Now that it’s over, I can’t shake this now what emptiness rattling in my chest.
Stewing uncomfortably in my own thoughts is a recipe for disaster. The old Alexis isn’t welcome, and I have to do something to keep her out. Step one: I already miss acting a lot, so I sign up for Earl Warren’s acting workshop. I slap it on my credit card just like I did the Chloe Dillon classes. Step two: Take Operation Get Fit to the next level. I need to workout. I don’t trust my neighborhood after the sun sets, so I go outside for a run as soon as I get home from work.
The next day, I do my hair up with a side braid that disappears into an elegant ballerina bun. I even wear eyeliner and dig a semi-cute top out of my closet that I haven’t worn in a really long time. I put my game face on, but the hollow pit in my stomach won’t go away and the day goes downhill before it’s barely begun. My eyes well up with tears as I approach the building that will swallow me whole and spit me out at the end of the day.
I walk in to twenty-eight voicemail messages. I don’t even have time to write them all down before I have to start putting out fires. My head is pounding by the time lunch rolls around, and I’m still playing catch up when four claims are slapped upon my desk at once. It might as well have been a slap in the face. I can’t move. Frustrated tears prick at the back of my eyes. The phone rings. “Thank you for calling Silver Insurance, how may we service you?” I say in a strained wooden voice I barely recognize as my own.
If Sarah were here, we’d make crazy oh my god we’re going to die faces at each other over the cubicle wall to ease the pain, but her desk is vacant. She ended up doing exactly what she really didn’t want to and put in notice at Silver. She got accepted to grad school starting in September and between the wedding planning, the wedding itself and their long honeymoon, it made more sense to just go ahead and quit. It’s been really hard for her to let go of her independence and let Jason provide for her, but he finally wore her down.
Her last day was bittersweet. I was happy for her to be embarking on an exciting time in her life, but I didn’t know how I’d survive Silver Insurance every day without her and Chloe Dillon. It wasn’t payday, but we decided to push it and rush over to our favorite lunch spot for one last hurrah. I almost burst into tears when she ordered her usual Au Jus Sandwich with fries. On the way back, we saw Angela returning from lunch.
“Sarah!” she called out, so we slowed down to wait for her to catch up. “I forgot to mention it earlier, but I’m having a wrap party at my house next week. I want you to come.”
I stepped back a little and averted my gaze. I didn’t expect to be invited, but it was a little awkward that she had to ask Sarah right in front of me.
“Oh, sorry Lexi, I’d invite you too except I wasn’t sure that you could afford something like that, so...”
“Yeah. No big deal,” I said quietly. I don’t even think that stuff works anyway. If you could wrap away your fat then everybody would be skinny, and everybody is not skinny.
Sarah appeared very uncomfortable with this obvious slight, so I excused myself and waited for her inside. I haven’t looked Angela’s way since. With Sarah gone, there’s no need for any kind of interaction with her at all.
I stare at those evil claims burning a hole in my desk and think about my future. Twenty years from now, I’ll be the supervisor surrounded by co-workers who have literally watched me age from a ripe, vibrant twenty-something to a beaten down, graying fifty-something. There has to be more to life than that.
Chances are, I’ll take my yearly raise and keep coming back for more because I’m too afraid to do anything else. Meanwhile, my heart will become full with regret and my spirit crushed flatter and flatter until there’s nothing left. Is that really how I want my life to be?
Focus. I only have one hundred twenty minutes to contact and hopefully engage eight people in conversations that will take at least two hundred forty minutes in all and I’ve already wasted ten. I want to run out the door and never come back, but I squeeze my eyes shut for a second and take a deep breath to calm my rapidly beating heart. I grab one of the files and get to work.
I can hear my heart beating in my ears in time with the throbbing in my head. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t. I can’t! I’m screaming inside, but the sound won’t make it past the giant lump in my throat. I don’t want to be my parents—lives full of thankless, unfulfilling work. Something inside of me breaks just then and a voice whispers in my ear. You know what you have to do. I don’t know what it is, but I have this terrible feeling that this job is really bad for me and that I will teeter on the precarious edge between misery and not quite happy as long as I have to sit at this desk every day. I didn’t just spend all that money on Chloe Dillon and put all this effort into pulling myself up only to be sucked back down.
I’m used to playing it safe, but in that moment, I hit a wall. Hard. Like head on collision with air bags exploding hard. The plan to change my life was flimsy and full of holes, and with startling clarity, I realize that anything—no matter how awful it might be—has got to be better than this. I could spend a million dollars on personal growth lessons and it will never ever help me if I’m too afraid to make real changes that will have a real impact on my life. That voice again. Do it. And this is the point where I snapped.
Step three: Quit your horrible job. I closed the file I was working on and flipped my notepad to a fresh sheet of paper. To whom it may concern: Please allow this to serve as notification that in two weeks’ time, I no longer wish to be employed with Silver Insurance. Thank You, Alexis Conway. I signed my name, tore it off and walked to my supervisor’s office. She looked up from her desk when she saw me in the doorway.
“Hi, Jan. I just needed to give you this.”
She took one look at it, got up and shut her door behind us.
“Alexis, what are you doing? You just put in for Supervisor. I don’t understand.”
I had no idea what I was going to do if I was chosen, but now I won’t have to worry about it.
“You know I haven’t been happy here for a long time.”
“But you’re so good. You can do anything you want here. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’m sure.”
But I wasn’t. I wasn’t sure that this was the right thing to do; I just knew that I had to do it. It’s impossible for me to be happy and work here. Even more impossible is what I plan to do for money. How stupid of me. What am I thinking? I could still change my mind, but then I think about all the work at my desk and the new claims that will keep coming and my body feels so heavy and tired. Thinking about continuing on this way for god knows how long makes me feel panicky, so I don’t do the smart thing and change my mind. I tell Jan that my mind is made up and that I would really love it if this could be kept quiet. I would like to disappear into the sunset, so to speak, without any gossip, talk, or, heaven forbid, a going away party. I want to go quietly.
“What will you do?” she asks with concern in her voice. Her gray hair lists to the side as she tilts her head.
“I haven’t really thought that far ahead.” Shrugging my shoulders, I glance at the piece of paper that’s about to change my life. I could still snatch it back and I know she’d never say a word to anybody about this momentary lapse of judgment, but I don’t. “Thank you, Jan,” I say, and walk out of her office and presumably towards the next phase of my life. I just wish I knew exactly what that was.
