A Corporate Haunting
Thirty third floor, and the sun is setting. There’s a roar of rush hour traffic, a dead-on-impact distance below. All of the screens around the office have gone dark, except one. Working my late hours, putting on the final touches for today’s deliverables, which won’t matter when it’s time for tomorrow’s final touches, I feel the minutes sweat by. I should have left by now.
An hour of after-hours work is a simple sacrifice in the overcrowded years of a career. No one will notice if there’s one less evening meal with the family. No one will wish I had been the car in front of them, holding up traffic, trying to make my impossible left turn onto the bridge. There’s a wife at home just trying to decompress, and a boy to whom I owe the world, and have, so far, failed to deliver.
The evening emails are still pouring in. Another distraction: open, read, respond. There’s a promotion coming — eventually, or not. There’s always someone leaving for greener grass. Each day builds the resume, or builds the reputation, or builds knowledge, or builds blood pressure. Each day is an opportunity for a better tomorrow, with men and women all striving for theirs.
Sitting alone, I’m surrounded by their ghosts, their deliverables waiting on mine. The feeling of a team, camaraderie, office life. They all know me, come to me when they need something, because I’ll deliver. I’ll help them out of a jam, and I’ll set them up to succeed. That’s how I succeed. That’s how I “widen my net”. That’s how the office works.
I’ll be their stepping stone, while they’ll be mine. We’ll boost each other up, through stressful days and long hours, grind home to grind back tomorrow. So that each of us, in our own time, can move on, and forget each other. Look back a the years and almost remember. Know that we never got there alone, but always by the grace of someone whose name is on the tip of our tongue.
And the sacrifice is a fun dinner at home with the boy who will remember me for every minute of his life.
