Digital Diversion 6
The Trident Plan
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Chapter 6 The Fracture
Jim was rudely awaken by strange noise. Irate and groggy he got up to quash the invasion of his sleep.
It was an alarm on his phone set long before his trident plan. The screen showed the alarm’s title: ‘Happy Monday’. Jim stared at the phone, processing the information sluggishly. Monday meant work, Group, Marge’s drawing class. The alarm meant he had slept as long as possible with becoming late.
Jim groaned as he headed to the shower. Thoughts of calling in sick filled his head. He rushed instead. He was lucky to find a full change of clean clothes, his last, and breakfast bars he bought on his recent trip to the supermarket.
Jim checked himself at the door. Keys, phone, wallet, company security pass. All good. He dashed toward the bus stop in vain. He was going to be tardy. ‘Late!’ proclaimed his inner critic.
The inner critic called it as his bosses did. Late. Jim was called in for an interrogation.
“You were late today,” the boss of the day said, starting with the obvious.
“Yes, I apologize,” replied Jim, long accustomed to not giving excuses which would be picked apart and thrown back at him.
“And the reason is…?”
“I overslept. Missed the bus.”.
“We’re not going back to the old problems again, are we?”
“No, I’ve taken concrete steps to correct the previous problems.”
“Let’s hope the steps are effective. If you are late again without an acceptable reason you will be moved out of the mail room to janitorial duty, provided there is an opening. If not, we will have to let you go. Are we clear on this?”
“Yes, Ms. Buckner, very clear.”
Jim went to the mail room and took his ribbing from his coworkers. It was part of mail-room life. One he had been happy to join until his addictions set in.
His workday started. He made a few delivery mistakes that morning, but they were things he could correct without involving anyone else. By lunchtime he was emotionally exhausted.
A coworker noticed his slumped posture , bowed head, slowly gnawing on a breakfast bar in the break room and felt sympathy for him.
“Rough day, Jim?”
“Yeah, started on the weekend. This is just some overflow,” Jim replied, the disgust clear in his voice.
“Why don’t you go grab some real lunch? The cafeteria isn’t all that bad. Eating better can help you feel better.”
“I don’t feel like being around a lot of people just now.”
“Alright, you take care now.”
“Thanks. Will do.”
Jim ground though the rest of the day, things on his schedule cycling through his mind repeatedly. When quitting time arrived he was first out the door. He knew it looked bad, especially after showing up late, but he had an errand to run before Group. Buying a sketchpad, pencils. and an eraser for Art Class.
It was a rush job but he got it done, arriving at Group just in time. The councilor in charged welcomed everyone and singled out Jim, intentionally or not.
“And welcome, Jim. Glad you could join us.”
Jim couldn’t read the tone of the council’s voice but took it as sarcastically biting. He remained quiet for the session and slipped away as soon as he could.
He rushed to Marge’s class only to find an empty room. Confused, he asked a nearby student about the class.
“Oh, didn’t you get the phone message? The class has been canceled this quarter. The instructor had a family emergency or something.”
“I see… I must’ve missed the call. Thanks.”
Jim walked home slowly, thinking over the day’s events. He knew they started well before this day. This very bad day.
Once at home he placed the art materials next to his writing pad and yet unopened desk calendar. He looked at the items as the emotions swelled up inside. Then he violently swept his arm across the table with a primal cry, sending the items, and almost his PC, flying onto the floor.
Grinding his teeth he turned away from the mess to go do laundry and the dishes. His movement were mechanical and rough as he forced himself to do the routine chores.
It was a minor crack, barely visible, but it ran through everything. And cracks don’t stay small when the pressure keeps rising.
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