I really can’t pinpoint the moment I went from being young and fun to being old and sour.
Sometime after I started my first serious job and somewhere between the third and tenth time I had to sell out everything I believed in is my best guess.
Tag: work
Puppet
You can be a puppet with strings or a puppet with a hand up your ass.
Things they never tell you about adult working life.
Work
I get paid.
I get laid.
Writer
Usually I say I write when people ask me what I do at work.
Actually, I write, I surf the web, I think about wasted time, I try to stop myself feeling bored, I laugh with the guys I work with, I resist the chiming calls from the back of my brain to just quit, just quit, just quit, just quit, just quit, justquitjustquitjustquit…
Sir
He woke up underneath his desk, still clutching an empty bottle of whiskey. He dumped it, smoothed down his hair and shirt and sighed before opening the classroom door to let his students in.
New particles
Physicists are currently working to discover all kinds of new particles.
I’ve got one for them: fuckingboredatworkium.
Unhappy
One day I stood up on the train and spoke my speech to all the unhappy commuters.
I didn’t go to work that day and neither did anyone else in that carriage.
Clarity
The amazing clarity hit when I was sitting on the train halfway to work.
I ignored it and went to work anyway.
Cog
Each of us are cogs.
No matter how big or small, the machine stops if we don’t work together.
Work
At work I always tell the truth.
I’ve been fired like three times.
I return
Every day I go to work and on the drive I swear I’m never going home again.
By the end of the day I’m so tired that I can’t think of where else to go and so home I return.
Really I am
I know it appears that I’m just a corporate shill whose empty barren existence is an insult to generations of ancestors.
(I’m secretly bringing the system down from the inside!)
Ideal
At my job I have the ideal situation!
Work about thirty minutes a day and no drug tests!
Disillusionment
“It’s only an English grade,” the father said. My boss’ pen, balanced on one Jesuitical finger, tipped downwards, and along it slid my modest dreams.
The importance of being unimportant
Dear diary,
I was thinking about sticking my pencil into the little button-hole eyes of my boss who thinks he’s a big shot, treating me like some insignificant clerk that files meaningless papers over 9 hours a day, 365 days a year for more than 20 years, while I am actually the secret daughter of the President of the United States! But then again, he’s just a poor guy who doesn’t know the truth so I’ll continue to work through the night as I don’t want anyone to discover my hidden identity.