Now I have a job again, and money coming in. Not enough to
live comfortably, but enough to hope that I may save some money if no emergency arises. But it's a false hope, as hope always is. Emergencies always arise.
Don thought he was doing me a favor when he asked me to come
back to work, so it would have been rude of me to refuse. But I knew it was a
mistake. I was more dead than alive, and rousing myself from the grave
has been exhausting.
Don still says I can save the company, but no one can do
that. I realized that eight years ago. I realized long ago that people want to be saved,
but only on their own terms. Don wouldn’t listen to my business plan eight years
ago. He now admits I was right, but it’s too late. There’s nothing I can do now.
Each day I sit at my desk and think about standing up and
walking out. I‘m not the captain of this sinking ship.
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