Entry: Backlog, day minus fourteen.
Today I was offered a job. An offer you can't refuse, as the saying goes. A representative from the Republic Military School approached me today at my current job. He came by while I was working, baking donuts and cookies and pies...truly no comparison to what he offered. A life of excitement, danger, riches and fame awaits you he said.
It was tempting, I said to him, but I wasn't sure it was enough to draw me from what was essentially an assured future already. It was then that he threw another idea at me that would change everything. "You have the chance to do something that matters."
That stuck with me. Making donuts, bagels, pies, everyday novelty food items...it really didn't matter in the least. If every bakery everywhere shut down, people would grumble and moan, but they'd find substitutes, maybe even bake the goods themselves. What I did had little to no impact on anything except providing me a paycheck. And while that paycheck, thus my future, was guaranteed, none of it would mean anything.
A future that means nothing. A decidedly terrible prospect indeed. The blood must have drained from my face, my expression gone slack, because his eyes lit up as much as his smile. He knew he had me.
"You have a choice," he said to me. His eyes pinned me to table I stood at, boring deep into me. After a moment, he turned, and headed out of my little bakery.
The message was clear. I followed him out, terrified at what I might face, terrified at what I was leaving behind, and wondering if I'd made the right choice.
Computer: terminate recording.
