A Day In A Life Of Us

Apr 29, '08 4:58 AM

For the nth time I am convincing myself not to quit. It started when I was brushing my teeth and suddenly, as if brought by the blurriness of my reflection, I have asked, what's the use? Maybe the usual-ity of the alarm clock has gotten in my nerves again, or I'm finally noticing my hatred for the number 8, and my insane craving for the numbers 12 and 5!

Now I am here, in front of my desk and my computer, whose monitor is tagged with the word "mayor's" (maybe Id like to have one on my forehead also), and the noises in the office has started to die out: ah, break time. But I'm here, for what's the use of having a break. Little nice ladies, several of them now, and counting, have "invited" me to a cup of coffee or a piece of sandwhich...and I said, I get shaky with coffee and a sandwhich at this point might ruin my wolf-like appetite later when I have my supper. I need to be hungry, for I may be too tired to eat, and instead be eaten by the couch. Eventually they just disappear and I'm left with myself, and the sound of these keyboards clicking like teeth of a restless sleeper...hah, poetry, poetry, anyway, what's the use of thinking whether I'd quit my job? For the nth time.

Who loves their day jobs anyway? Come on, man, a day job is synonymous with words like "corrosive" "abusive" "stressful" "fatal" and "easy." Why don't I try a "night" job then? Something more exciting like security work? Or relaxing like a dishwasher? Or rewarding like a drug pusher? Ok I'm feeling a lot better now. 5 minutes to my favorite afternoon number. Five minutes more and I'm back home, in my soft couch, and the only thing that could bother me would be to decide what channel I'd be switching into after my show ends. Wow, this is the life!