Your heart gets broken, your colleague steals your idea, your bowels develop mood swings, you sleep with your boss, your salary cheque shrinks, you chase a deadline for 48 hours without sleep, you catch your husband having an affair, you delete all your computer files with a clumsy finger, your child dies, you find a cockroach in the office tea, you develop cancer, you get yelled at by HR for playing loud music, you smash your car and still, and still, every single day you wake up and go to work.
Then a day comes when you wake up and you don’t go. That’s when the fears come home gnawing at you with small, sharp teeth, that hurt in the darkness as you lie on your bed. You wonder if you’ll miss the filling up of your bank coffers every month. You wonder when you’re broke whether your Friday evening friends will stand you a drink. You wonder if you fail miserably, whether you can get up and go find another job. Or worse, if anyone will give you one.
It’s how you deal with this fear that will define who you are. It will shape you with its strength or weakness, either into a corporate rat, an individualistic rat, an artistic rat, a failed rat, an entrepreneurial rat, a freelancing rat, a famous rat or a lost rat. For at the end of the day, that’s what we all are, tiny rodents, chewing chunks of cheesy mediocrity, filling our bellies with what we call life.