What happens when you work for a company for more than five years? People get used to you being there; you become a part of the interior, an inevitable part of everyday life, like a hurricane in Florida. When you try to prove a point, people think that you bitch; when you bitch, people wait till you stop. Eventually you forget to shower in the morning or brush your hair, and you start coming to work in pajamas. I am not kidding, because I myself wear pajamas to work. Why? Because I am invisible, or better yet, I am a chair that is so comfortable to sit on that no one really cares what I look like.

Wearing pajamas to work comes with benefits:

1. You don’t have to change clothes more than once a day. I will explain. Put fresh pajamas on in the morning. When you come home – you can use the same pajamas in the kitchen to cook dinner. The same pajamas work for relaxing in front of  TV. Then, when you go to bed – you already wear pajamas!

2. Less laundry! Imagine having to wash half as many clothes. You save on detergent, electric and water bills go down and most importantly you have more time to be creative.

3. All you have to shop for are pajamas! Pajamas shopping is easy. You come to, pretty much, any store, you buy pajamas, you leave. 10 minutes most. 15 minutes if you look for house shoes that go with your new pajamas.

However, this works until you get a job interview. You can’t show up for the interview with dirty hair, smelling like a pig and wearing pajamas. You got to invade your closet, or, if you like me, who spent last 3 years on the couch playing WOW and can’t fit into old clothes, you have to go shopping. I had to go shopping. I hate shopping. Nevertheless, I went.

Dillard’s met me with racks of shorts, t-shirts, cargo pants, halter dresses on one side and shapeless suits, that even my grandmother wouldn’t wear, on another. The same situation waited for me in JC Penney: sundresses, tasteless blouses, and tons of jeans. Blue jeans, red and black jeans, skinny jeans, jeans with holes and torn out threads. The smaller stores, although not as pathetic, still didn’t have what I was looking for. I was looking for a simple elegant suit which wouldn’t make me look as a just-graduated-paying-student-loan or sorry-escaped-from-my-sister-wedding interviewee. I had no luck. After two hours, when my legs felt as if I just finished plowing a field, I demanded an answer from one of the store’s employee:

“Where can I buy a suit?”

To Be Continued…

I had to work 12 hours yesterday. It’s okay, we don’t work too often in the office. And when we get something to work on, we find ourselves fighting over it like cats over a toy.
Anyway, it’s hard to write when you have a full-time job. You come home, your head feels as it made of wood and the last brain cells have died somewhere around lunch time. So, often I sit down to write and as I sit down I forget what I was going to do. I gape into monitor and I can’t remember. I get up and go in the kitchen to get some tea. But as I am standing in the kitchen with a cup in my hand I forget what I came in the kitchen for. It’s not that my memory is bad, I am just tired. I hope I win the Pulitzer Prize soon.
As I said I was unusually busy at work lately. I didn’t have time to read, talk with anyone, or think of anything. But I listen. The things people say…

C.: It’s not that I mind when people express their opinion. I mind when certain people make suggestions about things that they have no idea about. I mean I didn’t ask R. what he thought, but he came in my office anyway, and was standing there pointing at things. I mean, what does he know about MS Word anyway?
A.: I have to agree with you. He can’t even spell “MS Word”.

R.: I bought CS3 this weekend.
I.: Really? Nice. I don’t buy things that I can steal.
R.: Well, I don’t want anyone to knock on my door over software.
I.: It’s not like you are making porn movies.
R. leaves in deep thoughts.

I.: I washed car this Saturday.
A.: Did you throw away food from last year?
I.: No, I ate it. Of course I threw it away. Some of the bags tried talking to me, you know.
A.: If you waited longer it would steal your car.

A.: Why is the office always empty?
I.: Because smart people work from home.
A.: Where is R. then?
I.: He went home to touch himself.
A.: He can do it here. Why do you think S. moved out of his office?
I.: It was a farting competition and S. lost.

Today is two weeks since I closed my WOW account. I was drinking… I mean, playing for 3 years. The number 3 is relatively small number. But if you multiply this number by 365 days and then multiply it again by 24 hours, you will realize that I spent a lot of time chasing horde and fighting dragons. I don’t say I wasn’t enjoying it. More than that, I lost my soul to WOW. It was something I lived, quoted and worshipped. I was glad that somehow the spell was broken. I was actually terrified when I realized that I devoted so much of my time trying to fill the bottomless void of MMO.

As you might imagine I still get caught up in the thought of my past. Sometimes I catch myself in a hurry to get home, in order to be there in time for a raid. And then I remember that I don’t play anymore, that don’t have to be anywhere on time – I am free. I am free.

Last night I had a horrible dream. I dreamed that my guild needed a healer for a raid. I felt guilty that I am not there to support them. So, I renewed my account in order to help them. And as I was logging in, I felt not just regret but also sense of loss over slid through my fingers my own life. When I woke up, I realize that it was just a dream; a wave of relief washed over me.

And so I begin to learn living my life again. The memories of the sun on my face, the warm spring wind, sounds of the trees over my porch – they all are coming back. I learn how to enjoy a moment and to love my things again. The things I abandoned, forgot, deceived.

I washed my car today; I washed it for the first time in 3 years. I couldn’t believe that my car still looked like a car and it still drove; that it still was a car. I remembered the tress that grew on the roofs of buildings in Russia if enough dirt accumulated there. I was surprised that nothing grew on top or inside of my car. I had to fill garbage bag tree times in order to throw away old newspaper, receipts, batteries, dog treats and dog leashes, empty water battles, bags with food leftovers, which were budging inside and trying to talk…

And I loved it. For the first time in a long time I loved my car, loved the dirt on my hands and pants, and cold water splashing in my face. I loved it. It was real.

Driving to work today, I planned to spend some time writing my book. But of course I didn’t even get a chance to take my coat off; I was assigned a task of diagram drawing. I was only glad that to draw diagrams one doesn’t have to involve their mental powers, one can do it automatically without thinking.

So, while I wasn’t thinking of what I was doing, I was thinking that it is not actually that hard to become a Famous Writer. For example, I decide that I am going to be a Famous Writer. From now on, while talking to someone I will not say that “I will be a Famous Writer”; I will say that “I am a Famous Writer”. The main idea is to make people believe. It is not important that those people never heard my name or never saw my non-existing books in the bookstores. I can come up with a title of a book on fly if such question may occur. The most important thing is to make people believe that I am a Famous Writer.

And then a miracle will happen. The same way as Atum transformed pure energy into physical matter, same way my words supported by energy of many people’s faith will become reality. I even think that I can receive an award. I am not talking about Nobel Prize, but I am thinking that Pulitzer Prize would be sufficient. And why not? People do believe in weird stuff. Take Christian God, for example, which in fact was initially just a Word! Look how many churches are built – on lie… on illusion… on believe!

And I don’t even want the power of a God. All I want is a little bit of money, so I could quit my job and work on my book. I am going to write this book anyway, I just don’t have time to do it.

Of course, if I had completed the book, I wouldn’t have to work so hard to influence people into believing that I am a Famous Writer. But anyone could be a Famous Writer with a complete book; you try being a famous writer without one!

in the temple of Serapis.