Imagine starting a new job.
You have seven different supervisors, in a new building, with new coworkers. The seven different supervisors all give you consistent daily work in seven different areas. Here’s the catch, you will only visit the office twice a week. And you’ll only see the supervisors in person twice a week.
The work is different, more advanced, and fast paced. Your performance review is available daily to see online. There’s no leeway in terms of tasks. If you fail, you fail. If you pass, you pass. Sometimes you can retry a task but once you needed to complete it in 3 minutes because your time with that supervisor was up then (true story).
As an employee you are kinesthetic, you want to move. You are the kind of person with a standing desk, always tapping a pencil as you try to do your job. But, by the way, you can’t during your three other days working at home. Those days are spent staring at a screen. One you get marked absent for if you happen to be late logging on because you were taking four blissful minutes of movement outside.
The days at work are better. You see and make friends. You try to find your place. You think, hey maybe I’m fitting in here. Then at home you wonder. You worry. Maybe a friend didn’t answer a text. Maybe they are busy or, maybe, they don’t really like you as much as you think?
And your mind goes in many different paths as you try to find normalcy, pattern, something to calm the worry. Your first supervisor, he talks for ten minutes and logs off after telling you to do an assignment. The others are shorter. One is longer and she takes every minute of her time to make sure her points are made.
Then you have a lunch break at 10:30 am. By the time your day of remote work is done you have seven new assignments, an assessment coming up, a pair of projects due soon, and you are tired. You sit on the couch as your head spins. You are starving.
Not only do you have to figure this job out, understand how to fracture yourself into seven different pieces and become a subject matter expert in areas you couldn’t give a damn about, you have to do it and discover who you are as a person.
There are times it sinks in. You get angry. You cry. You feel like the world is crashing down. You feel like you’ll never make it. You wish things were simpler. You think about being a kid and spending days at the playground in the summer sun and part of you mourns even thought you don’t know that word yet or why it causes pain deep in your soul.
Your days are a roller coaster. Some you feel confident, you feel like you could take on anything. Some you are scattered and lost. Some, by the seventh period of work, you are done physically, mentally, and emotionally.
You go to bed at night and set your alarm for 6:30 the next morning because the bus will pick you up at 7:15 and it starts over again.
Your dreams, your likes, those things you could see yourself doing, they feel like islands on a misty horizon. You’ve just started to consider a future, years passing, what it means to age and do something as your life. To get there, you have to get through here.
This shell. This premise. This system that everyone is improvising, no matter what they try to sell in emails. This moment where everyone is lost no matter how confident they sound.
You love The Flash. You’ve watched every episode of Barry Allen’s story. You feel like you know the characters personally. Allen is smart, likeable, handsome enough to have girlfriends that you’d love to find. Most of all, Allen is fast. He can move is a split second. He can escape in a moment. He can take care of trouble, rescue the victim, and defeat the bad guy. So at night you watch The Flash and you dream. You dream of being the hero, the one they all look up to, the one with speed.
And you smile as you imagine it. You put your foot into the ground and you run.