It's happening. I have absolutely nothing to say. That undeniable itch to spew blog in all directions has slowed almost to a complete stop. I can't put my finger on it. Wait!
I've been extremely busy at work lately and it's been slowly robbing me of my will to live. I feel adults, parents in particular, are generally failing children in this particular area. I'm not sure I'd be this affected if my parents had warned me how terrible life becomes after graduation. At least I'd have seen it coming. I could have used a little, "Seamus, the vast majority of your life will be excruciatingly painful from 22 beyond," in high school and college. This is perhaps too heavy a concept to dump on a pre-pubescent kid. But surely I'd have conducted myself differently in high school and college had I known. Or at least I would have been prepared.
There are seven days in every frigin week. Seven! For five days out of every seven, ever notice how no one ever asks, "What are you doing tonight?" No one. Ever. It's like the Pearl Jam "Do the Evolution Video" where everyone's in an identicle cubicle connected to their computers by tubes protruding from the ears and notstrils. We're barely even human for the vast majority of our existence. And, for me, the malaise is usually so thick, the terms of this existence don't even bother me until I have a week like this one.
Things I hate hearing that I always hear at least 50 times on Mondays and Fridays:
"So what's on tap for the weekend?"
"TGIF!"
"How was the weekend?"
"Too short! Yours?"
"Happy Monday!"
"I feel like I was just here."
"I feel like I never left this desk."
"Someone kill me. Please."
Um, yeah, I'll take a whisky please. Stat.
1 comment:
Quit and go on unemployment. That's what I'm about to do. I bet that I hate my job more than you at this point. You can't make any real change until to shed that shit job you have, so quit and get a new job within two weeks or so. I know when I've had enough when I start feeling violent, that's when I know it's time for some serious change. Don't go postal dude, quit that fucking job asap. You know what you should do? Find five specific companies you want to work for, show up at their door and say you want a job. Keep showing up until everyone their knows who you are, at some point they'll have to cave. Worst case scenario you'll have to wait tables till you get somewhere you're happy. Scratch that, worst case scenario is you sit in that fucking cubicle for another year.
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