The Adventures Of A Uncommon Man

Chapter 3 A Brush With The Boss

I arrived at my workplace ten minutes before my shift is due to begin. It's raining quite hard now, the rain falling in torrents, blasting my windshield like a thousand locusts splattering on my car. Funny as about half n hour ago it was nice and sunny and now the heavens have opened up in all their glory. Not that I mind. I would rather have bad weather when I'm at work then the sun to be out in all its glory. It's down right depressing being at work when there is a beautiful day to enjoy. I keep asking myself why I keep doing this. Going to a job that I hate day in, day out. As adults, we spend the great part of our lives working. We dedicate eight hours, our most important and crucial hours of the day in work. Some work even longer. But if it's in a job we are bored with, a job we hate with passion, then it would not take a shrink to tell you what effect that would have on your personal life. But still, the great majority still get up early in the mornings going to a job we hate like poison and we do it because we want money. Money to pay the bills, the mortgage, money for survival. Josh once told me that nobody would get rich or successful working a nine till five job. His take on this was...if you want earn a living, work on your job. If you want to be a success, work on yourself. He told me that most of us chase money not realizing that money is an illusion. It doesn't exist except as numbers on a screen or as paper and metal in our pockets. The only value money has is the value we attach on it. The real currency is ourselves and it is in ourselves that we must invest our time and effort. We are the product we sell to the world and to be a success requires the simple mastering of two things...a/ The ability to create, and b/ The ability to deliver. Josh had told me these were the two things he had to master to be his own great success. It was these two things that enabled him to create the great business empire he once ran. I still don't understand why he gave it all up to work as a technical on-site computer engineer. But he does command a high salery and the management, the authority at Syntech Systems gladly give him this. He's practically earning fifteen quid an hour. Not that he needs the money. He has more than enough savings in his accounts to buy three houses and three working pensions. He is married to a former model with degrees in law and psychology. A woman who can speak five different languages. Josh always boasted to me he could speak French, Polish and German. But I've yet to see this.
With all this money and security, you would think he should be hanging up his working boots and taking it real easy. But Josh is not that kind of person. He loves working to much. He calls it serving, because he believes that is what we are all here to do, to serve and be of service to the world, to contribute our unique flow to the greater flow of life. I can never quite suss out Josh. He is a complicated kind of guy even though he says he is really quite simple. Well, at least that is how he comes across to me. I really must see him today. I need his advice and wisdom.
The moment I step out of my car, I am instantly drenched. I make a quick run for the entrance foyer of the building. Other workers who have already arrived are also dashing in. One woman in high heels nearly falls over but is quickly helped by some tall guy who was not far behind her. They quickly disappear into the building. I feel my shoes almost sink into the numerous puddles that have formed around me and they splash as I make a run for the door. The staff canteen overlooks the car park and I would hate to see a whole group of people watching me struggle through the rain. By the time I reach the foyer, I am already dripping wet from top to bottom. I really wish I brought along my umbrella. Natayla got it for me from Marks N Spencers three months ago. It's very strong and sturdy, wind resistant too so it wouldn't blow inside out when there is a Gale blowing.
It would have kept me dry, but then again, how the hell was I supposed to know it was going to rain?
I just feel that today is going to be one of those days.
I pass through the foyer doors, my heart sinking ever deeper at the prospect of doing another days work in this place. I am practically dripping wet and this doesn't bode well with Miss Simpson, our receptionist. She's a prim and proper woman who prefers to wear a suit than a skirt. I don't know why this is, but maybe it's because she either secretly wants to be like a man by dressing like a man or so wants to look sophisticated. She has long, raven hair that falls loosely to her shoulders. There's a certain shine to it as if she had spent an hour or so straightening it. Then there is the ton of concealer around her face and mascara that makes her eyelashes stand out like short black needles. Her lips are cherry red and her glasses shine in the glare of a computer screen behind her desk. She is certainly not the most friendliest receptionist I have ever met. Despite her good looks, she comes across to me as a woman who is too full of herself, someone who looks angry as if working as a receptionist is an insult to her. I could not imagine her as a boss. She would certainly be strict, almost Hitler-esqeue. I don't say anything to her as I walk across to the reception desk to sign the fire log. She just gives me one of those glares as if my very presence makes her feel uncomfortable, like I'm beneath her. I always thought receptionists were supposed to be nice and kind but Miss Simpson is none of those things. She's like this with nearly everyone in the place and it does make me think, that maybe, like myself, she is an overqualified person working in a dead end job. Still, there's no need to take it out on everyone. I could practically feel her gaze burning into my back as I head to the factory floor and the beggining of yet another work day...