Every minute I am here I lose a year of my life. That may be an exaggeration, I only lose a minute. Yet that minute feels like hours. For too long have I suffered in this building. Mindlessly filling out paper after paper. The work never ends, and the suffering only beings. The stairs take even more off my life. Endlessly climbing and having my breath taken away. Not in a romantic way, more like a “Please end my suffering now” kind of way. Most people could probably guess what I am talking about by now. My job is…. Life.
I continue climbing up this rickety stairwell to the end. It is coming closer even as I try to push it away. As time runs by I always try to catch it. I scold it for going too fast. I beg for it to come back. It is relentless. Nevertheless, I persevere. I keep going through the motions. There are times when I slip on the stairs, or times where I run faster. There are times when the papers get scrambled and my frustration grows. But I always remember how short life is. Even when I can’t see the top of the long stairwell.
