Jack was high again. It was just matter of fact lately, that after waking and coffee, he’d take the uppers, all a new routine. The new man, ready for anything, no problem too big to handle. Quick and easy was the key to life now.
Life used to be a burden, going in to work every morning, checking on everyone else to make sure they were doing okay. Now Jack breezes through the office corridors, barely greeting anyone, for he needs to reach his office. His own desk has the secret container in the locked drawer, the little plastic bottle of nirvana.
Jack had it all for a few years. Working hard at a job he loved, a feeling of satisfaction and success, a family, a nice home, anything a guy could want. Suddenly he stopped before taking another pill to think for a minute, yes, that was the other me–before.
He popped the second pill of the morning, noticing it was only ten AM. Never mind, I have a lot to do, he thought, as he replaced the bottle in the drawer. He hesitated, but locked the drawer again. I’ll wait till I really need it. Jack signed a few papers, gave a few orders and left for lunch.
He used to be less efficient, before the drugs. He had always worried about how he did his job, if he actually accomplished as much as he should. Added to that was the worry about getting home on time, all the family duties. Most days now it was just a blur. He barely thought of home anymore, his thoughts were all about the bottle in the drawer. Jack was spiraling down hill but didn’t realize it.
When Jack did stop to think, he would push it out of his mind and retreat to the desk drawer. The thought that the pills had colored his mind and now had complete control over his actions never occurred to him. He was enjoying the new carefree life he had tricked himself into believing.