The Reality Check
It all started with Human Resources, that supposed beacon of hope destined to revive the walking dead of the corporate world. But to her, it felt less like a lifeline and more like a ghost town—more shells than souls, wandering aimlessly in search of meaning. Ultimately, it led only to a void, much like the flatline of her existence, where each chapter felt more like a dull footnote than a thrilling narrative.
Nothing was ever as she’d imagined. In her head, she lived in vibrant worlds filled with adventure and intrigue, far away from the mundanity of reality. Books were her refuge, the only companions she truly wanted. Human interaction? Please. The thought alone made her want to retreat deeper into her imagination, perhaps into the pages of a thrilling fantasy novel where dragons roamed and no one had to *network*.
The escapist did have a publicity agent, unfortunately—because who wouldn’t need one to navigate the chaos of reality? It was like having a tour guide in a haunted mansion, where every room threatened to swallow her whole.
Her agent called to set up an interview appointment, and she wondered if it was too late to cancel and hide under her blanket instead. As for a role in the hospitality industry? Well, she had zero experience and even less desire to be “hospitable.” The last time she’d hosted anything, her plants had died a tragic death.
The thought of the interview filled her with dread; if it were a living thing, it would practically scream at her to stay back. “You are alive and well!” it would holler, “You cannot be bound!” It would insist, “Do not interact with me! I am not your friend!” Yet, despite all her instincts screaming for her to retreat, she found herself sending her agent the unnecessary approval for the appointment, because why not add another layer of chaos to her life?
The escapist had just returned from a whirlwind journey around the world—an exhilarating experience filled with the rich tapestry of contrasting and harmonious cultures, each moment a vivid brushstroke on the canvas of her senses. Total and utter bliss.
But, of course, her agent had to shove her back into the dreary confines of reality, dragging her down with a brutal reminder of the mundane.
“Don’t forget your interview,” the agent insisted, as if it were a life-or-death situation. “I haven’t forgotten the trivial appointment,” the escapist shot back, her sarcasm barely masking her dread. The prospect of this so-called “training for life” loomed over her like a dark cloud, threatening to shatter her temporary freedom from the after-travel effects. She felt cornered, reluctant to engage in a game she never wanted to play.
The agent called again the day before the interview, delivering yet another reminder. And once more, the escapist assured the agent, and herself, that the interview had not been forgotten. The company had been relentless, reaching out to her agent three times a day. They were clamoring for her to arrive as soon as possible, desperate to acquire her soul—so desperate that they bombarded the agent daily, four times a day, for an unbeknownst-to-them suffocated escapist they simply hoped would serve as an overworked, under-appreciated office troll in their drab world.
The day arrived when the escapist must step into the very place where she would feel shackled, like donning a pair of metaphorical handcuffs. Fortunately, she had just enough energy to trudge through her appointment, though it felt more like an unwelcome obligation than a promising opportunity.
But within her, a flicker of rebellion sparked. With just enough resolve to stir a little trouble, she considered challenging the very system of life that had brought her to this point. Why not turn this dreaded obligation into an opportunity to disrupt the status quo? After all, if she was going to wear these metaphorical shackles, she might as well make a spectacle of it.
With each step toward the entrance, she pondered how she could rattle some cages, flip expectations on their heads, and perhaps even bring a bit of chaos into the sterile world she was about to enter. Why not start a fire?
