"Something inside me is breaking
Something inside says there’s somewhere better than this…"~Five for Fighting

The alarm clock. I'd like to think who ever made this contraption had a horrible life and wanted others to experience the dread he went through every morning. However, there it was with zeros a blaze in red like the devil's own eyes singing a tortuous song out the top of its head. A song that is eerie, haunting and yet familiar at the same time. Putting on my suit I can't help but wonder who is that kid staring at me. Who is that shaggy blonde hair, green eyed boy, with a couple days facial stubble? He's wearing a suit much like mine and a tie I too remember seeing in my closet. It just doesn't look right. Outside it is dark and quiet. Lonely. Motor city at this hour is still a sleeping industrial giant. Its gears and pistons will wake up later, for now I am the one moving. My car is covered with a layer of ice, much like the grime that builds on my eyes overnight. With a little scraping it'll be removed. It too, like eyes will take awhile to fully shed the extra weight.

The road is a combination of expansion joints and potholes with a bit of concrete in-between. A back massage at this hour would be great, but one not this rough. We live in a world as ants. We are marching our little feet not really paying attention to what's around but only ahead. The company checkbook is our queen. If we don't sustain our queen we die. We are greedy and follow what we believe is the road paved with gold. We drive with our eyes gazed ahead with our worries riding shotgun and our dreams taking a back seat.

The backseat. Where as kids we would sit looking out gazing at the exciting surroundings. Now those same stores and buildings are nothing more than concrete and steel created for one use. To put clones like myself in them, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a report in the other. We strive to become successful all the while forgetting what defines someone as successful. Glancing in the rearview mirror I catch the reflection of my own eyes. There's still a bit of glimmer in them and still a bit of mischief. It's not will power, it's just a slight turning of the wheel to the right. In white painted font on a bright green rectangular background, the sign glows like a beacon. Exit.

"I can see clearly now the rain is gone"

Actually I can't. Still very cold. Still very overcast. Detroit. Motown. The Motor City. Also according to amagazine at BankOne(where I set up my account today) it is the most dangerous city in the US according to a poll that looks at murders, robbery, auto theft, rape, drug use, etc. Oh well, I kind of figured that. This city is more depressing than watching the movie Life is Beautiful. Now being from Houston we were excited when we able to shed (no pun intended) the fattest city image. Detroit now takes that honor along with the honors of one of the most illerate cities in the US. Second to last from El Paso.

Now its not all bleek here. I go about 30 mph over the speed limit on the interstates here. Its not because I have a company car and feel invinsible. It's just, well everyone else does, seriously EVERYBODY. If that makes me a follower then so be it. Then driving today trying to find a Target, I drove past a Texas Roadhouse. That made me smile. Anyone seen the movie 8 mile? Well I live almost right on 10 mile. So I'm just a short two mile jaunt from that now infamous boulevard.

Can you judge a book by its cover?

We've all been there before. We open those large maghony doors to a land filled with enchantment and wonder. A land where young and old can find something they want to learn more on or simply dream about. A place where imagination is a prerequiste for coming in. Barnes and Noble. It never fails. I open those doors and right in the center aisle are the new releases. Here they lay in some arranged order, horizontal, vertical, diagonal....Some of us look for a book that was recomended, others try to discover if their favorite author is at it again. Then there's the impulse buy. We look at covers for something that catches our eye. Something that screams out READ ME!!! However how many times does the cover speak the truth?

I've now finished two weeks of training in Dearborn, Michigan. I've now experienced two straight weeks of depression. Some may conclude its the overcast weather or the groginess of Detroit. A city awaiting for its pistons and wheels to start turning more rapidly, being able to bring it back to the importance it achieved in the 1940's. Then there are the friends and relationships left behind. I have to admit that this does play a role, but smaller compared to the main reason for my state of mind.

The job. This job came in a manilla envelope that promised me rewards for a job well done. As I read the back cover I was filled with joy, it was abou a job in an industry I love. It laid out benefits that any college graduate would want and more. It painted a picture of a career, of a company hiring us to be VPs and not just entry level workers. The Blue Oval shined and shimmered as it lay in my hands, but soon discovered was really just another emblem painted over hastily.

I leave in a few hours to once again board a plane. Aisle or window seat, it doesn't matter. This is one flight that I wish I did not have to board. That is life. Life is to be experienced and looked at with an open mind. Maybe its only how this first chapter is written that has brought me to how I feel. So far its no page turner, but then plots can change.

"How many bags are you checking in?"

I don't know. Technically two. A garmet bag and a suitcase. Still I am leaving to Michigan with much more. I am bringing a bag filled with memories, no carry on could contain. I am bringing joyous occasions, midnight conversations, and akward situations. I am bringing 23 wonderful years of me to Michigan. I've been asked if I am nervous about starting a new job. Honestly I'm not. If there's one thing I've taught myself is that I can achieve whatever I set my mind to. Anyone can, and everyone should.

What my mind has been drifting to is the relationships I've made, the college year ones. I've shared coffee and hugs goodbye these last weeks. During these moments when we say see you around, I wonder about the future. I wonder what will become of this amazing person, this person who has shaped and molded who I've become. This person who is so influential will be over a thousand miles away. I hope these people fade like a Polaroid picture. Instead of becoming a distant memory, that the picture like our friendship will get stronger as bonds tighten, all it takes is a little shaking.

When visiting bathrooms in homes throughout the US, it seems above most toliets there seems to be that cross stitched quote, "Home is where the heart is." Home is not Montana, Texas, or Michigan. My heart is with friends and family. You are what feels like home to me. I love you all and will miss you.