Insects

I was up earlier than usual this morning to take my wife to the airport before going to work. After dropping her off I was in a bit of a daze. I was coming off the high of seeing my son last week, combined with the thought of not seeing my wife for two weeks and also the fear that our dog would shred the house while she was alone all day. As I merged with the stream of cars inbound to Atlanta, it occurred to me that we were like ants returning to the nest. In mid ant nest analogy I came to a stop at a red light and prepared to turn right. Directly across from me, preparing to turn left was my carpool. As I looked across the intersection at them, I could visualize myself sitting in the back seat 20 years from now returning to the colony.

All at once I experienced several different things: depression, an epiphany, more depression, mild suffocation...can't breath...must change life...

Green light, and it's off to the hive. After parking I walked through the parking lot and noticed the same people I always see. There is the guy who always wears a short sleeve shirt no matter how cold it is, the guy who is so stern and square jawed that he looks like a rock-em sock-em robot, the guy who has the eternal smile and head nod for everyone, and the guy who sleeps in his car until 3 minutes before six.

We reach the turnstile and swipe our badges as we greet each other; "Good morning Sam," "Good Morning Joe." We enter the building and check our hopes and dreams at the door until the day ends and, if we remember, we pick them up on the way out. I'm sure that many of the people I see on the way in in the morning forgot to pick them up the day before; maybe the year before.

I feel less like an ant on the way home, I think it's because our destinations are all different. I drive into the garage and enter the house to find that nothing is shredded, the dog and cat are both happy to see me, and all of this is possible because of the time I put in as an ant.

It turns out that being an ant pays fairly well.