Workaholics (1)

And so here I am now, stuck in this stone cold place. I'm not alone, but it sure does feel that way. No one is sounding the dinner time bell, no one is moving away from their seats. They are focused, they are motivated... Maybe they are workaholics. I'm definitely not...

But I'm here, as though I'm part of them. Technically I am, but really I don't fit in in this matter. I don't fit in at all. I'm the kind that wants to go home because I actually have a home to go to. It's not a place I've worked for or earned or deserved... It's just the dearest place to my heart, and I deperately want to be there right now.

But not these people, no... They are still here, in this place. This place where there is internet access, colleagues to chat with. They are a people who find satisfaction in solving problems and creating solutions. They take pride in what they do, and probably that's all they have - their work. That's is probably the only thing that approves them and rewards them. The only thing that gives them a sense of achievement.

I wonder if they have experienced true love. Obviously they can't find it in their work or bank account... These are sad sad times for me, but I really like to know how they feel too. Do they feel empty when they drive back in their new car? Do they feel sad even lying in bed with the one they love?

To be continued...