When a jeweler picks up a rough gemstone, what does he see? Does he see the intricate shape trapped inside? Does he see the light glimmer through the countless reflections?

I pick up the glass paperweight off of my desk. Gemstones have always interested me, but it's been only that. That burning glint in my childhood eyes has been long since sequestered to the wispy depths of the past. The glass, even though cut to resemble a gemstone, is a far cry from a true one. In another world, I could be cutting a 20-carat monstrosity no different from the one I held in my hand.

Setting it down, I stand up to look beyond the walls my cubicle. I'm the only one in the office, the windows reflecting my gaze back at me. The walls themselves are starting to gain a conscience in my mind, even. Why did my boss have to give me so much work? I brought it up to her earlier, but she nonchalantly dismissed my concerns of staff shortages. Why would we need to? Everyone's able to cover the work, she scoffed.

I sit back down and let out a deafening yawn. It's just half an hour from midnight, no less. Maybe this is what they mean by a black company. I'm just too darn young and naive to get myself into something like this.

Work is work, though, so I save the spreadsheet for the last time of the day. I power down the entire room, and the short server rack in the corner blinks back at me. I remember walking into this office for the first time and wondering how interesting that hunk of metal was. Such a long time ago.

The whirr of the elevator stops and the doors clunk open. The click of my heels on the laminate floor echoes through the empty building. Buses rarely circulate at this time of night, so I take a moment to check messages on my phone. That's right, my friends had dinner together while I was working overtime. Looks like I'll have to catch up with them over the weekend again.

I step onto the metro and swipe my card. When was the last time I did something for myself, I wonder. I pause and realize that it's disturbing that I have to take a moment to ponder that question. Why do I do things for causes other than myself? It's not like the company I work for is doing any good, and I want out anyway. Maybe it's time to pick up my roots and find my future elsewhere.

I still have quite a ways to go. Polishing a diamond is no easy feat, after all.