Ouroboros

I had quit my job with no plan in mind. All I had was the thought that the tedium, the constant explaining things to coworkers about how to properly do things that was outside of my paygrade while maintaining my sanity. I had been in charge of a team of junior developers that were fresh out of college, always needing their hand hold with questions and whatnot. Sometimes I wanted to tell them to send things out, just ride the wave, because how people learn in this field was not sitting on bated breath, waiting for the higher ups to give the go ahead, but by fixing the resulting bugs. Confidence was something that does not come before an action, but after something was performed, something that was built over time. I had little to no savings, no plans, just a plan that I needed more in life. I hated how things were going in my life. People were not meant to sit in front of a monitor and work under other people, take orders from higher ups and be in constant subservience to them. All I wanted to do was sit at home, take the longest rest of my life because all I could recall for years were unending periods of working without rest, being on call for the boss at all hours, frantically answering texts to people about my whereabouts because I had suddenly got a stressed-induced illness. All I could do was think about what was the next thing? What would come after the drop? For me, the fluorescent buzzing in the office had left a permanent scar on me. I dreamt of opening door after door, endless doors, a maze where there is no solution, and the only way out is to either stop or keep moving. Waves upon waves crashing into me, hitting my torso and dragging me down, but the undulation bringing me back up and the stasis was much different. I thought to myself there was a way out of the endless path of the dreams, and all I had to do was keep going, like a soldier trapped in a trench, but there's no way out. Alas, the dream of escaping the endless doors never ended. Just a loop of the same song repeatedly. When I got home, there was only one light on in the kitchen I had left on. Life was like this for years. A spotlight in the kitchen. Right in front of the fridge. When I opened my fridge, all I had was ketchup, mustard— things I couldn't eat. I needed to go grocery shopping. I would go to bed hungry, but that was nothing new. There was nothing to do but to go to bed and think about my next move. I had stripped down to my underwear and rolled onto the cool sheets of my bed. I was relieved to think that I didn't have to wake up early anymore. I was relieved I didn't have to answer any more random calls around the clock, go through the motions of keeping it together when all I wanted to do was sit in my bed and rest. The relief. It was staggering. But. But. The encroaching darkness of what tomorrow would bring kept sleep away, though; all I could think about was: could I even be hired again? Was it even possible? Eventually, my thoughts scattered, and I fell into a deep slumber.