Today would have been Franz Kafka’s 130th
birthday. In commemoration of that fact,
I spent the entire day feeling like a giant cockroach named Gregor. Yes, I crawled around the office, doing the
monotonous tasks that take up so much of my day. I’m not saying my situation is unique. It’s not.
I’m sure most people spend a good portion of their days dreaming of a
better job, a better life. However, most
people never take the initiative to do anything about those dreams.
This morning, I took the initiative. I worked on a resume and cover letter for a
job I would love to have. It’s a
challenging job, but one that is right up my alley. I probably won’t even get an interview for the
position, but at least I’m taking a shot at it.
I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as Gregor.
Franz Kafka has always appealed to me. I think it’s the whole dark outlook on modern
life that saturates every word of his stories.
Kafka wasn’t the life of the party, that’s for sure. He was Gregor. I’m sure he imagined himself as a cockroach. Getting up every day. Seeing all the other cockroaches on the
streets, in their offices. Dreaming of
something better every night. Kafka
didn’t live long enough to see something better for himself.
Maybe something better is just around the corner for Saint
Marty, though. Right next to the roach
motel.
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| This is sort of how I felt this morning |
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