My life is like a set of stairs.
Spend some time and effort walking up the stairs, be all fine and dandy, and laugh at those who aren't as high up as me, then see the halfpace-- it promises relaxation,
and a time to take it easy so I can recharge and take on the stairs above it with full energy.
Sometimes I reach it and spend a weekend, or maybe even a short vacation, not worrying about work or school or maintaining relationships or balancing my checkbook or any number of things.
Just sit down and chill so I can go up the next flight without too much struggle.
Sometimes I don't.
Usually, it's a blank person, nothing but a white blob forming into the physical manifestation of stress, I suppose, and it pushes me back down the stairs,
giving me only an instant to relax before I remember that I have to go to that wedding or send that email or write that code,
and it gives me a quick shove and suddenly I'm at the bottom again with none of the benefits.
Lately, it's gotten a lot more hectic, the stairs seemingly getting longer between landings and steeper to walk over. Even worse, the blob has taken form: it's been my coworker.
God, I hate that guy. His smug face echoes throughout my dreams, my nightmares, taking credit for my work and all lined up for that promotion I should get.
God knows I need the money, but he doesn't care. He just wants to take everything for me.
So every time I might reach the halfpace, he slams into my chest with his shoulder and dumps me off the railing, asking me to do something extra, blaming me for something he did,
making me stay late or come to work over the weekend, and he laughs at me. "Guess I win," he says, his stupid snorting laughter echoing throughout the stairwell.
So I've decided that this stupid behavior has to come to an end. He thinks I'm coming over for dinner, saying congrats to his promotion.
I hold the knife up to the light, watching it shimmer and play on the blade, and I slide it into a sleeve and into my purse. I'm done stressing.
I'm reaching that halfpace tonight.