Coming to an End

By Russ Bickerstaff

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Time certainly seemed to be running out. But I didn't necessarily know why. I mean, I knew that time was progressing forward minute by minute. I mean, I knew that. That always happens. Be kind of weird if it didn't. But there was something about it. That seemed kind of strange. I mean, it seemed to be running out. Not that it was progressing forward in a linear fashion. But it was progressing forward to a conclusion. A resolution. And ending. And that didn't necessarily sit right with me. Because that sort of implied that everything was going to come to an end.

And there certainly was some sense that there was a strange realization as I was sitting there at my desk, but everything was coming to an end. I looked out the window to my left. I couldn't necessarily tell what it was that was different about this particular day. Different from any other day, but certainly it felt like everything was coming to an end. And that didn't sit right with me. Because why bother doing any of it at all? Other than the fact that it was the next thing on my list. Everything was always the next thing on my list.

And that's when I thought to check my work list. And certainly it seemed kind of strange. I mean, there was this blank spot at the end of the last item. There's always a blank step out at the end of the last item. But this particular blank spot seemed kind of final. It wasn't filling up with anything. Once I was finished with the final workload of some one dozen things that I would probably get done over the course of the day, it occurred to me that there was nothing else coming in.

And I suppose that I felt kind of strange about the whole situation. I mean, I really didn't know what to do. And I didn't really know what it was that I was so anxious about. I mean, I was just sitting there looking at the list and waiting for something else to be added on. I don't know that I've ever done that before. And I don't know that I necessarily knew where it was going. Where the anxiety was coming from either. It just felt like something was a mess. Like it was all coming to an end because I didn't have any more work at the end of the day.

It wasn't anything that I was really able to focus on, though. I get the feeling that might have been part of why it was such a fascination for me. The fact that I wasn't able to focus on it. The fact that it wasn't something that I was able to really sync my teeth into an understand what was going on with respect too. Because there could've been so much that I would've been able to get into you under the right circumstances. And I probably would've understood the full significance of everything a little bit better if I didn't have to focus so much on what it was that I wasn't wasn't doing.

There was something disturbing about the fact that it was all coming to an end, though. Even though there was a sense of accomplishment about getting everything done and striking everything off the list, that certainly felt like there was something wrong about it all. I didn't know what it was that was wrong about it all. I just knew that something was wrong about it and I didn't know how to handle it. I didn't know what to do about it. I didn't know how it was that I was going to be able to manage much of anything. So it felt very strange.

But I stood up from my desk. And I decided that if there were going to be things that were going to be left in my work list that I would have to find some reason to walk away. And certainly I felt like I probably should have done that a long time ago. So I felt like maybe if I just left without having completed everything everything wouldn't come to an end.

So I cleared my schedule, notified my supervisor that I wouldn't be able to be in for the rest of the day. And that everything should be fine for tomorrow. I just needed to do a few things. No one else should have to look after my workload. Of course, all of this was in a text message. There was no reply. So I felt perfectly comfortable just walking away from my desk. And that's exactly what I needed to do at that moment. There really wasn't any questioning it. There really wasn't any questioning much of anything. Other than whether or not the world was really going to end because I've had finished everything on my work list.

I left my desk. I left the office. And I haven't been back since. I haven't let them know that I haven't been back since either. And I don't know that necessarily they're aware of the fact that I haven't been back. It's kind of a weird office. I mean, it's not like I haven't been working from home. But I have been working from home on things that haven't been a part of that work list. I'm assuming at some point they're going to be rearranged or something like that. I don't know. It's possible that all of those things I've actually gotten done. But I think and some small way I actually saved the universe by not doing those things. And at some point, I'm going to have to tell them that I have no intention of actually returning to the office even though I'm clearly working for them. I just don't know how to do that. It just doesn't sound rational. It just doesn't sound like it makes any sense. And it probably doesn't.