Leonardo was finally living the life that he was
supposed to lead all along. So far, all his existence had been but preparation,
25 years of preparation to be more exact. Now, the moment of finally
integrating society as a full member had arrived.
At
last, Leonardo had a job. This was, after all, the natural sequence of things, to
finish university and find a job. That’s what everyone does.
As
the weeks went by, his work, at Publico’s editorial room, situated in the Viriato Street in
the Picoas neighborhood, became increasingly familiar. Most of his time there
was consumed by the reading and translating of British and North-American
newspaper articles. Three years spent in a renowned English University
It
comes as little surprise that all those menial tasks had contributed to lower
Leonardo’s self-esteem considerably. As a student, first in Spain and later in England , as he suffered through all
those law, politics and philosophy books, Leonardo had truly believed, perhaps
in a naïve fashion, that it would all pay off since he would some day have the
opportunity to play some sort of important, relevant role in society. When he
accepted the job, or rather the internship, at the newspaper he thought that that
moment had arrived. Now, however, he was starting to realize that things were
not quite as simple as that.
It
is true that, after all, it was only an internship. As such, the true goal of
it was to prepare Leonardo for the real thing. If he worked hard enough, and
persevered, after three months hopefully he would have a real contract on his
table. He would finally be entitled to a decent salary, and would probably be
given a little more responsibility in the editorial room. That was to be the
beginning of a long path, towards achieving the status of respected journalist.
Maybe then he would be allowed to write interesting and important pieces on the
key events shaping modern Portuguese society in is different facets: sports,
the arts, politics, economy, justice, crime, etc…
It
seemed than, that in spite of the initial difficulties and frustration,
Leonardo had finally found his path. After twenty plus years of studying, now
was finally the time to start making a difference (hopefully). Apparently, fate
had wanted for him to become a journalist after all, even though he had never
studied journalism at university. He had committed himself to the study of law,
politics, philosophy and even a bit of economics, but he hadn’t had a single
module on journalism. Yet now there he was: a journalist to be. He couldn’t
help but thinking that the whole thing was a little bit ironic.
And
so, as the weeks went by, Leonardo worked hard to fight against the powerful
tedium that threatened to take over his whole being, holding tight to the idea
that soon enough the internship period would be over and things would start to
get better. This was only the beginning. Bigger and better things lay ahead. But
wasn’t that what he had been telling himself his whole life?
When
November came, Leonardo had been working for a whole month. It wasn’t exactly a
long time for most people standards, and yet to him it seemed like forever. It
was as if he had gone back to his middle-school days when every week seemed to
go by slower than the last one as the semester progressed.
‘Leonardo,
there’s nothing you can do… except getting used to it. It will probably get
better in time, it probably will. Just hold on tight and sooner or later you’ll
see that it’s not so bad after all’, Alexandre had had told him to make him
feel better.
‘What
about in your case? Did it get any better with time?’
‘Well,
yes and no… but in my case is different. No matter what I do in my job it’s
always gonna be the same really, I’ll keep having to tell people elaborate lies
in order to convince them to buy shit they probably don’t need. Your job, in
theory at least, has a little bit more dignity to it at least…’
In a
way, that cheered Leonardo up a little bit. Maybe being a journalist was better
than most of the boring, menial jobs that most people have to endure throughout
their whole lives. Perhaps it was that kind of special job that actually gives
some meaning to your life. Now, as an internee he wasn’t doing anything he
could be proud of, but maybe in time he would be given the chance to really do
something that could make a difference for society and give meaning to his life
in the process.
And
even in spite of those happy, cheerful, hopeful thoughts there was just
something wrong with the path he was taking. He could feel it although he
couldn’t quite explain it.
A
distinct claustrophobic feeling was making way into his everyday life. As
November neared completion, the feeling was increasingly intense. It was like a
fist closing around him, like an invisible force that he could feel but not
explain.
There
was something wrong but… “It’s going to get better, this is just the
beginning”, he kept saying to himself.
‘Leonardo,
you think too much,’ was what Romeo, his dear friend, a young and promising
sales executive of a big multinational company, used to tell him. ‘You gotta
chill man, enjoy life, savor the small, good moments spent around your friends
and family. You have a good job now, you’re much better off than most people.
You’re even good looking. What are you complaining about? What more do you
want?’
What
more did he want? The one million dollar question.
‘Leo,
you make me jealous,’ his other good friend David had told him while they were
having a beer together. ‘There you are, you just graduated and you already have
a decent job. I’m tired of studying, I hope I can graduate this year at last
and find a job, hopefully a decent one too.’
There
were even people telling him they envied him!
“What is wrong with me?
Why am I incapable of felling happy?” was now the question in his mind. Maybe
that was the one million dollar question after all.
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