3:22 at Work

(I wrote this weeks ago at work but only decided to publish it now. Excuse the lack of polish.)

     It is the middle of the night and here I am watching paint dry. Or rather, waiting for paint to cool. This is a last minute order, something that was rushed by the upper management due to a rejected shipment due to some bullshit tests, and it means that two people have been placed on a night shift with exactly one task to complete, most of which involves waiting. I've finished my book. My phone, which contained my backup, an electronic copy of Thus Spake Zarathustra is at 3% battery, which I am reserving for the possibility that I will need to call my father in the morning for pickup. Life is constrained by those green bars and percentages in a way I am not entirely comfortable with. I love my device, but I am eerily aware of its power over me, and am glad I repaired a watch given to me as a gift years ago so that I can discover the time without being sucked into its seductive clutches. My coworker is taking a catnap, who can blame him, this is a fucked up shift. I won't be able to do the same due to the steady supply of instant coffee I have been injecting into my veins. That and a Nalgene constantly refilled with water keep me up (and going to the bathroom every 5 minutes). With this wakefulness, 3.5 hours of work to look forward to, and my main distractions denied (up until the nap I had no computer access), I retreat into ponderings. Where did the idea of God come from? Why couldn't I stick with math? Just where the hell am I going, and how does this shit fit into that? Do I remember anything from that one time I did Tai-Chi in grade 8. Questioning god just gets you into an old fashioned recursive paradox, which stops at genesis. Questioning math leads me to remember how much I suck at trig substitution. I am no closer to seeing where I am headed in life than I am to discovering what energy formed the big bang. Nope, I don't remember Tai Chi.

     There is something nice about "killing time" if you allow yourself to accept it for what it is. My life is likely to be a busy one, and being in a situation like this where there is literally  nothing to do except think is actually quite pleasant. Times like these are the polar opposite of a trance state, despite knowing it is foolish, you glance at the clock frequently, and thus are acutely aware of every. single. minute. Perception of time is more important than the physical phenomena, anybody who has ever found themselves awake at 2am after a session of videogames can remind you that. If only it were possible to have this extra time given by perception when you were doing something fulfilling, to notice each and every moment in the important times of your life rather than the banal.

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