The beginning of awakening is always accompanied by shame and nausea. One steps out of the unconsciousness of alcohol back into reality. Obligations become painfully clear — things that must be done. The annoyed glance at the alarm clock, whose ringing pounds inside the skull like a jackhammer. Getting out of bed and making the way to the bathroom is a strength-demanding challenge. Why not simply stay lying down and let the day pass by? Why should my daily labor matter if it consists only of unnecessary and meaningless tasks?

Having to experience the hypocrites every day awakens a feeling of endless idiocy. Self-displayers who feel themselves too deeply but fail to recognize reality. They are so perfect and without fault that they cannot even see their own contradictions. The path to the chamber of mental torture is the recurring war between body and mind. All muscles are tense and scream under strain. Every step toward work feels like a cut into one’s own flesh. The mind drives the unwilling body forward. Paradoxically, both share the very same goal.

The repetitive and irritating work routines drag me into the depths of a dark pit. Conversations with the flawless individuals, who greedily delight in my decline, feed on my attention. Their self-obsession demands daily nourishment through affirming admiration. They perform lowly tasks only to demonstrate how wonderfully they can “solidarize” with the working class. In the company, we are supposedly a family. As if parents emotionally blackmail their child, making it clear that submission is expected. Love and food are bound to conditions and rules. Both prerequisites shift depending on mood and circumstance. What child would not give in out of fear?

Despite all these never-ending experiences, there are moments when these creatures expose themselves. Remarkably, one then realizes how creative they can be when it comes to covering up their own mistakes. Blaming the lower employee remains the most frequently used method. The excuses vary from day to day, yet one still recognizes the face beneath once the beautiful mask has fallen.

They know their disguise has slipped and that they cannot avoid the light forever. After all the agonizing hours, the hour of redemption strikes. Joyfully, the two adversaries — body and mind — announce themselves. For as soon as one arrives home, the hand reaches for the beloved liquid of bitter happiness.

Drink, and forget this day.