It’s one of those Atlas shoulder stories

Barry pulled his shoulder blades together so that the world’s weight could crush him just a little bit more. He sat at his desk, hunched over his tiny kingdom of a laptop, piles of paper and empty coffee cups, leaning into the struggles.

Oh, the problems I have, Barry thought as he stared at the desk. He had to worry about redecorating his house, making sure he logged the most hours at work and, at some point, fitting in a bowling league. The weight of the world was literally on his shoulders, or that’s what he told people.

The funny thing for Barry was that the world didn’t seem to want to stay on his shoulders. As he sat, he felt the pressure starting to relieve. He leaped up and grabbed it, feeling a great crush upon him, like a giant wave on the beach. He settled back into his chair with a contented sigh.

Seconds later, there was a knock on his door. He got up to answer it. It was probably someone who wanted a piece of his time—a mailman who wanted him to sign something or a landscaper wanting to mow his lawn.

Instead, he found an impossibly giant man standing there, glaring at him. The man was shirtless and chiseled like a Greek statue. He had one hand high above his head. He pushed up slightly, and Barry felt the weight leave him. Barry jumped to catch it, but it was gone.

“Barry,” the Titan Atlas boomed, shaking the house’s foundation, “You have to stop taking on the weight of my world.”

“But why?” Barry asked, trying to develop a good reason to argue with this being. “I am carrying my weights, as I should.”

“You’re not,” the Titan said. “You’re causing me to be incredibly off balance. Your problems are so small, but I feel myself tipping over from your eagerness to take them on.”

“Small problems,” Barry fumed.

“If you were going to help, you’d be taking on other people’s problems. Your neighbor has cancer. Your local school is underfunded. The company you work for is polluting a river. I don’t need you to take on any of your weight. I need you to relieve the weight for others.”

“But I can take on the weight,” Barry cried. “I can carry it.”

Atlas flicked his wrist at this, and Barry felt all of it. The crushing weight of a globe’s worth of problems. He fell under the chaos, searching for his problems within it, and unable to find them.

Atlas scooped down and picked the weight up. His lesson to Barry was apparent, so he began to walk away.

“Sir, I just have one question,” Barry said, calling after Atlas. “Should I join that bowling league?”