Lost in the sauce. The Garrett's Chicago mix has too much cheese in it. Just another face among many shuttling back & forth on an iron horse. Strolling amongst higher ups, to kiss the ass of the higher ups. Aspirations whittled down to post it notes. Loved ones seem to taunt you, frozen forever in a flash of happiness. Few items on your desk actually belong to you. Not even the hand sanitizer you wished could clean your slate. Because you know it's chock full of baggage, self depreciation & a deep seeded hatred for what you do "for a living."
Living? HA! #ednakrabappel
It's All dread everything. You put on the happy employee mask (of course it's a bear, not just any bear, one that grins.) It gets you through the days, the months, the years you sit at a desk compiling eye strain & despondency.
Day dreaming stunts work productivity. Save that for cigarette breaks. Smoke billowing out of your mouth & nose, kind of like your will to do something better. To take a risk, to wonder why exceptional effort doesn't get you exceptional pay. You know the usual.
I'm happy to be working, I'm not happy to be working on something that will not have any type of long lasting impressions on people. The only outlook I have has a Microsoft logo attached to it, and it's quite grey, dead Optimus Prime grey.
Out of sight, going out of my mind.
Dreams While I Hope My Direct Deposit Clears
Thursday, December 2, 2010
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2 comments:
You sound like you could use a hug.
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