Taken away

I heard my boss call 911 and knew an ambulance was coming for a good friend at work. He has a history of heart problems so it wasn't that surprising. Knowing the guy, I knew he hated the fuss.


So instead of checking on him and probably crowding into the room where he works with eleven other people, I went out to the entrance to flag down the ambulance. The one productive thing I could do.


Walking past them onto the gravel path that leads to the parking lot, I heard the not so faint sound of the siren start. It didn't fade into hearing. It just started. The fire house being just over a mile away, I knew the truck was coming for my friend.

In flat Miami, streets are straight and long. In the distance came a black bubble. It seemed like a long time coming, but they made it and about 30 minutes later they left with my friend on a stretcher. He was sitting up, almost looking like he was sitting on a tall chaise lounge by the pool. It cheered me a little. And he is doing better, although still in the ICU.

I went back to work. I emptied the worry out of my mind and let work fill it. It's what kept me sane on 9/11. I made myself productive both times and many other times.


If you allow it, work can make you feel productive not so helpless at times like this; even mindless tasks accomplishes something. If you can't do anything about the larger picture, it helps to some impact on even a much, much smaller part.


Work is resilient. Someone leaves temporarily or permanently, intentionally or unintentionally and work will engulf the vacant spot. No one ever really fills the void the exact same way. Work changes around it, whether a factor of personality, skills, different expectations or shifting demands. Given time it's no longer a void, the ex-employee would no longer fit in the way they once did.


Maybe that's why I almost always do the work that I would've done on a vacation before vacation. I don't want my void filled while I'm gone. Not that any one's looking to fill my void, it's just a void is like a vacuum; the nature of work will always work to fill it. I guess I'm a little scared that I won't fit in upon my return.


You can be an alcoholic without binging. So I may represent the true definition of a workaholic. The actual number of hours worked matters little. The level of social life outside of work isn't the biggest factor. How much you need the mental stimulation found at work may be the key.



Today I needed the stimulation to avoid worrying. Tomorrow I'll go back to simply craving the stimulation.



Do I need a hobby. Why can't work be a hobby?