Out on the Lake

I slept out on the lake today.

There were things I had to, places I had to be. People were expecting me for some rather important meetings. I just didn't want to be there. So I took out the boat, put down a blanket, and fell asleep staring at the clouds. I figured they could do without me for one day.

It's funny, thinking about how I got here. Everything I ever wanted, right? Hell, I had my own boat and my own private lake to go out on so I could wallow. Most people didn't have that privilege. The people I'd abandoned for the day would suffer for it, having to make excuses, reschedule, shuffle around the corporate mess to accommodate the vagaries of their CEO.

I hadn't thought about any of them when I decided to just say “hell with it” for a day.

I used to care about the people I worked with. Back when we were an office with half a dozen people and a broken air conditioner, every one of them mattered. Every deal we made, every choice had felt like it was life or death.

Now? Now it just ran itself, or at least it felt like it. I put my rubber stamp on it all, made my appearances, told them all what a great job they were doing. Maybe they'd be better off if I just left it behind.

I don't think they need me anymore. It's become obvious I don't need them.