I often reminisce about the good old days when I could attend work and successfully direct my employees. Back then, I appreciated their innocence and youth. Back then, I would have never suspected that they were undercover secret agents.
In frustration and protest, I called my own personal strike. I refused to get involved or participate in any thing with my new housemates. And to further demonstrate my objection to these oppressive conditions, I refused to help with anything until someone finally agreed to be honest and explain who they were and what was going on.
The self imposed isolation fortified my beliefs and the conspiracies began to grow in scope and complexity. My reinforced understanding of Weirdness instilled a confidence that propelled me to start confronting people. One by one, I confronted and demanded that my family and friends reveal their true identities as a secret agents. . . .my mom, my dad, my sister, my aunt, my boyfriend, my boyfriend’s kids. .everyone. And with each denial, I became more depressed, confused and frustrated.