So it occurred to me just now that I spend probably most of my time these days with headphones on listening to music and tuning out the world around me. Gosh, I mean talk about being boxed in. I sit here at this desk all damn day five days a week in front of this computer screen and with these headphones on. I might as well be in a sensory deprivation chamber.

Some days at work, like today, just the sound of certain people’s voice, or the sight of their faces makes me want to puke, and my feel my shoulders coming up to my ears with the tension, so I put my headphones on. Can you tell I am having some difficulty being at work today? Ha! At least I can peer around the side of my cubicle and get a glimpse of the sky through the dark glass of this 29th floor tower office. How in the hell did I get here? This isn’t my dream, this is someone else’s dream that I have attached myself too. I think I am seriously suffering from burnout, but I honestly don’t know what I can do about it right now. I mean I could take a vacation, but that seems like a temporary solution to a possibly permanent problem. I need a more permanent solution to this problem I have gotten myself into. Don’t worry, I don’t mean suicide, I mean finding a way to make money and not compromise my dreams. As a writer, this is no easy task, and if I could figure out how to do that and freaking bottle it, I could make enough money to support all the starving and/or compromising creative people in the world, probably. Yet, I am still at work.

I really miss Napster. Luckily, I downloaded a butt-load of songs before the evil record company kicked me off for having some Jeff Buckley and they accused me of copyright infringement. Now it looks like Napster is meeting it’s ultimate demise, so I am out of luck, I guess. The headphones are the only things that allow me to concentrate on anything around here, because the noise level is very loud. I mean we have four pod cubicles and they are “ergonomic” cubes, so the walls aren’t too high, and we are crammed in this “primo” downtown space, and I can hear everything that’s happening in the three cubes that attach to my cubes, plus the ones across the way and the ones to the left of me and the ones over to the right. Much of the time, the VP of Operations makes conference calls down the way with the volume on the highest level it seems. Plus people are always riding by on Scooters, having mini meetings in the meager shelter of their cube, talking on the phone and generally making lots of noise. So, in order for me to deal with all that, plus just dealing with being here sometimes, I have to listen to music.

I remember when I went to Africa for a month several years ago, and I was outside all the time. I walked all over the place in Dar es Salaam, and it was hot as hell, but it felt good to be outside. I felt so real there, the world was big enough, infinitely big. I spent much of the time either on foot, or on boats or busses with the windows open because the air conditioner was broken, or riding in the back of trucks with the sticky wind in my face. On the safari trip, I liked sticking my head out the top of our decrepit Land Rover like some kind of crazed dog who had been locked up in the house too long. When I came back, I really didn’t even want to turn on the damn computer. My world got so big when I was in Africa, I mean infinitely big.

One moment in particular that sticks out for me, was when we were going through the Serenghetti looking for animals and our gracious driver, Nimrod Wilson, went off the road, so that we could get a closer look at the wildabeast who were in migration. We road up along side them and the whole world seemed to shake, with the force of their running and the zebras and impala hung out and nodded their heads at us as we passed by like they were trying to get a sense of what sort of animal we were and if we posed a threat. I stuck my head out the top of the Land Rover then too, and the sun was shining on my face and the expanse of the Serenghetti stretched out before me like some forever land, and for an instant I felt connected to everything in the warmest way. It was probably one of the most intense experiences I have ever had. I try to hold on to that, but I find it difficult as I complete the mundane task of trudging through my everyday life, especially when I feel that the space I have made for myself in the world, is way too small.

So, here I sit in this blue and gray office, feeling obligated to be here so I can pay the mortgage and the bills, and hating every minute of it, there’s got to be a better way, got too. I need to move my way of thinking back into the realm of possibility. Dare to hope.