This nameless man at the office says, and says often, “Is it Friday yet?” Then he has a good chuckle with whoever else happens to be standing near. I smile, and get back to work, silently hating. But, last Wednesday, I actually found it amusing. I actually had sunk so low that my brain fired the laugh chemicals at that piece of banal, soulless “humor.” That disgusted me. Not for the joke, he’s having his fun, but for the reaction I had. I was letting myself fall into this daily routine. I was nervous.
I looked at the yearly calender and lamented that it was a few months till the next three day weekend. I was worried.
Then my nameless editor didn’t like the way I approached a story. Decided it wasn’t worth running. Now, normally, I would be rather upset at this. It would be a big deal to be shot down by someone I respect, to have something I created be sub par. That’s when it hit me. I just don’t fucking care.
It was like seeing the sun and realizing how cloudy it’s been. I am not the office worker type, and I was falling into it. I was tittering at awful jokes, waiting for Friday and thinking this actually matters. So, I’m out. I’m officially looking for some non-office work. It was a good life experience; I consider myself lucky that at 26 I found this out, not 36 or 56. I wish everyone who can handle that life good luck, but it’s just not for me.
So, anyone out there in this great city want to hire me? I work hard and am pretty amusing to be around, I swear. I can cook; I know my beer; and I’m pretty handy behind the wheel. 1angryanthropoid at gmail
Oh, and for your link, here’s a really fun parody/mash-up/something of Highway 61 era Dylan performing Dr. Suess