The walk had almost matched up to my expectations. My expectation of it doing absolutely nothing to make me feel better. Mindlessly and in blissful opinion of my mundane life, I walked into the lift, so ‘excited’ to continue my alarmingly mundane life, as an invisible clone of the millions of other people who like me sat behind the same computer screen, in the same office, in the same city. Except that each one of us sat behind a different computer screen, in different offices, in different cities. I could have chosen a different life, an ardent an exciting life where I would wake up everyday anticipating the adventures I would experience that day. But, I did not, because I like like almost every other individual on this planet did not have the courage to take the path less travelled by, the path that gave immense joy after bouts of endless sorrow. Only people like Margo Roth Spiegelman had that audacity. Or people like John Watson had that luck to be enlightened and corrected before they routinely settled into the repititive cycle of monotony which I was presently traversing through. Just then, the lift stopped at the 129th floor and there stood my boss, one finger in his right nostril digging furtively and the other scratching his head. Instead of of a giggle, I started laughing. Actually laughing. Laughing as though every cousin of mine was tickling me. Surreal laughter with not a tinge of embarrassment at having seeing the boss of a multi-dollar company do this, rather having such a boss. I laughed because suddenly the reality of my life became clear. It had been,was, is and was going to be just as exciting or boring as I believed it to be.