Working Too Much

Like all workaholics, I have always felt that I lead a perfectly normal life. Until today. I left home this morning for office and as I drove my mind wandered to an algorithm that I have been working on. I reached office, turned off the engine and was getting out of the car when I noticed someone on the back seat. It was my son. Instead of dropping him off at school, I had driven straight to office.

In these four and a half years, my son has looked at me in different ways. But nothing like the look he gave me when he asked, “Dada, what are you doing?“. I mumbled something, got back in the seat and drove away to his school.

I am just 32 and by the looks of it, I will be needing the services of a shrink pretty soon. I dread to think what crazy things I will end up doing at the age of 60, if at all I last that long. If any of you have been through this and have managed to stay out of a mental asylum, any sort of advice would be greatly appreciated. I badly need it.