I don’t know why I’m even writing this, it’s not a big deal, really, but it’s been bugging me for, what, a week now? Ever since I picked up those few shifts at that new discount retail place, just to, you know, stay busy. And honestly, it’s… fine. It’s not like my old office job, obviously, but it’s a different kind of busy. Lots of folding, straightening, putting things back where they belong. Tedious, yes, but also a certain rhythm to it, if that makes sense. So last Tuesday, it was one of those days where the racks just kept getting destroyed. Like a whirlwind went through the store, you know? Jeans everywhere, shirts pulled halfway off hangers, everything looking like it had been wrestled with. And I was just methodically going through, section by section, putting it all right. Top shelf, neatly folded, bottom shelf, same. It’s… satisfying, in its own way. Like I’m actually making a dent, even if it’ll be a mess again in an hour. But then, I hit the sweater section. And it was just… a disaster. Like, not just a few displaced items, but a full-on, cascading avalanche of knitwear. And I stood there, looking at it, and for the first time, I just thought, “You know what? NO.” Not because I couldn’t do it, not because it was too hard. Just… a flash of, like, rebellion. I just didn’t WANT to. And I didn't. I just… walked away from it. Left it exactly as it was. Like some teenager, you know? It felt stupid but also… kind of liberating. Later that same shift, my manager, a young woman, probably younger than my own kids, comes up to me. And she’s smiling, all bright and sincere, and she says, “Thank you so much for being such a reliable team member, [my name]. It really makes a difference having you here.” And I just… smiled back. Said, “Oh, just doing my part!” But inside, I felt this HUGE wave of… fraud. Like, a total charlatan. Because I’d literally just abandoned an entire section of the store to its own messy fate. And she was thanking me for being RELIABLE. The irony, you know? It was almost laughable. And it’s not like it was a career-ending move, obviously. This isn't some big corporate scandal. It's sweaters. But it just got me thinking about all those years in the office, all the times I probably got praised for something that wasn’t quite… 100% accurate. Or for things I did with half my heart, just going through the motions. The performance reviews, the promotions, the whole ladder-climbing thing… how much of it was just really good acting? And how much of it was just me, doing the bare minimum and getting away with it? It makes you wonder. I just… I haven’t stopped thinking about that sweater rack. And how I just left it. Still there, probably. Still a mess. And I don’t even feel bad about it, which is the weirdest part. Like, not one bit. Is that… bad? Like, am I just finally letting go of some kind of ingrained sense of duty, or am I just being a lazy old person? I honestly don't know.