Yesterday, while waiting for the traffic caused by the combination of a car accident and a back-up caused by a train crossing I got to thinking about what would be my perfect job. I gave myself complete freedom with this task to come up with an environment and a job that would make me blissfully content. I’m not sure how successful I was at this task, but the workplace I envisioned seemed heavenly at that moment.

You see, I work alone. I spend a huge amount of my time alone, either sitting at my desk at home or in my car heading to do sales calls where I interact with people that don’t really want to see me or are only happy to see me because our meeting allows them to pull away from the drudgery of their own jobs for a brief respite. All of this I take in stride because I know it’s not me they are rejecting, it is my job they are rejecting. Sales jobs are hard and some days I’m not sure that I’m up to the task. Other days, the sun is shining and I’m happy to be in my world doing what I do. I’m good at what I do when I get the chance to sit in front of a client with a serious interest and they allow me to do my thing.

Yesterday was in the middle, there were moments of brilliance and moments of doubt. Yesterday was a typical day for me. So typical that it allowed me that moment to fantasize. I dreamt about taking a crowded EL train to the loop, shuffling on and off the train, shoving thru the open doors with the other 50 people at the same moment, queuing up to walk down the stars to the street where I’ll get in line for a coffee at a corner Starbucks, swipe my card to pay for it and glide effortlessly to the “milk and sugar bar”™ to pour one packet of Splenda® into my cup, swirling it around with the thin tan wooden stir stick. I’ll take my coffee, glance at the headlines of the New York Times to see what new horror our leadership has gotten us into today and head out the door, briefly pausing to allow the elderly woman to enter thru the door I hold open for her.

I’ll sluggishly walk the two more blocks to my high-rise office building in the Loop dreading yet another day in my window-less blue-grey cubicle listening to the office chatter and gossip and praying that the coffee kicks in soon. I’ll nod knowingly to the rent-a-security-cop manning the desk in the lobby before swiping my card thru the security system scanner, momentarily waiting for the system to find me allowing the gates to swing open. I run for the elevator calling out “Hold the elevator please!” and arrive to see the uninterested blank-faced stare thru the crack of the closing door.

Counting the floors, I’ll look forward to the stack of paperwork I remembered leaving on my desk to tackle first thing this morning before the staff meeting at 8:00am.

The drudgery sounds like a blessing to me.

As I was getting even more creative, imagining people and personality clashes, management restrictions and those sorts of things, the train passed and the barriers rose. As the traffic slowly proceeded across the tracks, I shook out the visions of coffee breaks with office “chums” and long lunches with girlfriends discussing the ultra-cute new copier repairman and headed off to make my sales calls.