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Selling paper was a mindless thing. This, Jim knew with an unflinching certainty.

When I tell people that I work at Dunder Mifflin they think that we sell mufflers or muffins or mittens…and frankly all of those sound better than paper so I let it slide.

With his chin in his palm he watched Pam as she sketched at her desk. He loved the way she chewed on her lip. Thoughts of Pam’s lips flashed through his head . . . and then were quickly dashed away as Michael announced that Dwight was driving him into the wilderness and leaving him to die, and that he would be in charge of the office for the rest of the day. He could see Pam smirking out of the corner of his eye.

Being in charge of anything . . . ever, was something Jim approached with a certain amount of dread.

Right now this is just a job. If I advance any higher in this company, then this would be my career. And well, if this were my career I'd have to throw myself in front of a train.

As he sat in Michael’s empty office he found himself filling the silence with the sound of his regrets. Memories of the places he had meant to go, but had somehow forgotten about, or let pass through his fingers along the way.

Jim Halpert had never been one to rush into things.  Jim Halpert has perfected  the art of waiting, procrastinating, weighing his options, analyzing the situation, and finally  . . . convincing himself that now was not the right time.  Jim Halpert had taken this approach to most things in his life.  In fact, it was how he had ended up at Dunder Mifflin.  He had put off applying for the writing internship at the Scranton Tribune,  always saying to himself, now isn’t the right time. 
 
But in a way, he reasoned, his indecision had put him the exact spot he needed to be in to change his life.  Even though he had waited three years, 2 months and 16 days to make his stand. 
 
He was finally happy.  For once, things had gone his way.  Yet, he was filled with the silent yet insistent ache of wanting more.  He knew deep in his bones that he was destined for more.  He found himself watching with a tinge of jealousy as Pam went to her art class every Thursday night.  He listened as she talked about the possibilities for her future.  He tried not to show how hard it was for him to hear her, define her dreams, when all he could think about was how he wasn’t sure if he had any more left. He thought about the job at corporate. Turning it down had been the right thing to do. Right?
  
You gotta take a chance on something sometime.

The memory of that long ago day, and the weight of his own words suddenly made the Michael’s office feel claustrophobic.

Hey everybody. Hi, how you doin'. Could I have your attention please 'cause we have to talk about this birthday thing.?

For a moment the entire room froze, and Jim saw the years flying by. Settling disputes about parties planning committees, fighting corporate downsizing, dealing with Dwight, uggh Ryan . . .

Jim had an epiphany that was more or a confirmation really. Being in charge really sucked. 

Poor Michael. Silly, goofy, kind-hearted, insecure Michael. In that moment Jim felt a kinship with Michael that made him miss him all of a sudden. Jim didn’t want to spend his life baby-sitting, refereeing and entertaining his co - workers’.

Jim didn’t want to be in charge, even though he somehow always got pushed in that direction. This wasn’t how he had imagined himself in his younger days. Bored, and without ambition, adrift, with his only life-raft a girl who could do better than him.

Well, I don't think I'll be here in 10 years, but...