My breath hitched and the room started to spin. I felt my chest tightening, and I slowly lowered myself into the chair across from my boss's desk, trying to contain my composure in spite of the panic I was feeling inside.

It had started right on cue, the familiar beeping piercing through the silence. I rolled over and hit the snooze button, but it was okay. My alarm was set to go off five minutes early to allow myself the satisfaction of pressing snooze just once. That gave me five minutes before I had to wake up.

I took a few deep breaths and slowly began to stretch, just like in yoga class. I let the air come in and fill up my lungs completely. I slowly let it out, through pursed lips.

I ran through the day in my head just as the alarm went off again, not seeming quite as annoying this time. It was a waste of time. My schedule had not changed in years.

I rolled out of bed right into my slippers, six and a half inches from the side of my bed. I took my shower- five minutes and twenty seconds.

When I got downstairs, I put my bagel into the toaster oven and pressed down the lever. That gave me exactly enough time to fix a cup of coffee in my favorite Mickey Mouse mug and get the butter out of the fridge before my bagel popped out, warmed to perfection. I am proud to say that I had my breakfast routine down to a science. I started brewing my coffee and headed to the fridge. Sure enough, I was just setting my coffee down on the counter when my bagel popped up. I spread the butter on the bagel and sat down to eat, flipping through the newspaper as I had my breakfast. Sports, than comics, then the New York Times Crossword.

I arrived at work five minutes before my first meeting. It was nothing new; a brief run-though of the company's goals and a few slideshows full of charts and graphs. I was on my way back to my office when one of the secretaries stopped me. The boss wanted to see me. I glanced at my watch and grimaced. It was five till noon, when I always ate lunch. I thanked the woman and walked over to my boss' office.

He told me that I had been doing a good job; that he was proud of me.

He wanted to promote me.

Vice President of the branch.

Everything I ever wanted. Everything I had spent my whole life trying to avoid.

Crazy hours. Something new every day.

It would mean missing my nightly show. I hadn't missed one in years.

Deep breath. Whatever you do, don't forget to breathe.

Quick glance at my watch. Noon. I was late for lunch. My chest got even tighter.

My boss said he understood. It was overwhelming. But he needed me here.

I managed a nod, not able to form the words.

Another wave of lightheadedness hit me, and I lowered myself into the chair. My vision became distorted, and I felt the tears fall. Vice President meant not having to worry anymore. Not worrying about money, or job security, or whether my family would be proud of me.

My boss was on the phone now, glancing at me worriedly.

I saw the walls come crumbling down. The structure I had worked so hard to implement in my life. Knowing exactly what my day would look like from the moment I got out of bed. Vice President would mean crazy hours, things popping up at random times. I thought about getting up in the morning and looking at my day. But only seeing a cloud of fog. Stepping out of the warmth of my blankets into the dark, unforgiving unknown.

Glancing at my wrist, 12:02. I should be at lunch right now. The tables near the window. Eating my peanut butter and jelly sandwich cut in fourths diagonally. Ten carrot sticks, each dipped in ranch. At 12:15, the human resources meeting would let out. I would smile as they walked by, couldn’t hurt. Jim would say hello, and I would give him a nod.

A paramedic walked in the door, and my boss calmly explained the situation to the man.

I felt relieved. This man could help me.

He could make my heart stop pounding.

He could give me back my breath.

He could make the world stop spinning.

That’s what I told myself. But I knew it wasn’t true. As he took my pulse, I realized that I would always be trapped. Trapped in my schedules and lists. And there would always be something that tried to thwart my plans. I would always live as a slave to my lists.


I smiled, thinking back on that day, so many months ago. I stacked all the papers on my desk in a neat line and dusted my keyboard for the third time today. I lined all my pencils up- six and a half inches away from my keyboard. A call came, and I had to leave. The door shut behind me, Vice President.