i decided to conquer my job today. i had the ambitious hope of strolling in with my head held high and with a huge smile on my face... instead i jogged in with puffy eyes and greasy hair.
my supervisor asked me to come into work by 8:30 this morning. this is a very difficult task when your mind bum-rushes into consciousness in the morning-- opening your eyes and flabberghasted when your alarm clock is screaming "8:49am... 8:49am... 8:49am..." didn't have time to take a shower, just washed my face, brushed my teeth and flew out the door in a tie and some comfortable shoes.
she didn't give me a hard time, but commenced working me like a dog from the minute i got there. a few hours of photocopying and a whole lotta redacting (that's when you have documents with priviliged information that needs to be "whited-out", so the opposing counsel (and the judge/jury) can't see it: i use a bunch of white tape to cover up the eviden--i mean, err... "sensitive" material-- and plaster the sheet with stickers that read, "redacted"). sounds like fun, huh? try doing it for 6 hours straight.
i couldn't even take a lunch break. and i had to work overtime... if i didn't have praise practice, i'd probably still be at the office with white stickers all over my body, trying to papercut my wrists.
i was trying to write a poem in my head on the subway ride home. i need to put it on paper, but i'm too tired. i'm finally inspired, but don't have the strength to follow-through. what a sad irony my life is becoming!
my supervisor asked me to come into work by 8:30 this morning. this is a very difficult task when your mind bum-rushes into consciousness in the morning-- opening your eyes and flabberghasted when your alarm clock is screaming "8:49am... 8:49am... 8:49am..." didn't have time to take a shower, just washed my face, brushed my teeth and flew out the door in a tie and some comfortable shoes.
she didn't give me a hard time, but commenced working me like a dog from the minute i got there. a few hours of photocopying and a whole lotta redacting (that's when you have documents with priviliged information that needs to be "whited-out", so the opposing counsel (and the judge/jury) can't see it: i use a bunch of white tape to cover up the eviden--i mean, err... "sensitive" material-- and plaster the sheet with stickers that read, "redacted"). sounds like fun, huh? try doing it for 6 hours straight.
i couldn't even take a lunch break. and i had to work overtime... if i didn't have praise practice, i'd probably still be at the office with white stickers all over my body, trying to papercut my wrists.
i was trying to write a poem in my head on the subway ride home. i need to put it on paper, but i'm too tired. i'm finally inspired, but don't have the strength to follow-through. what a sad irony my life is becoming!
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