I got a new job a couple weeks ago. Mostly cause Kelly kept complaining that I sleep in until noon and then roam around the house in my bathrobe leaving empty coke cans everywhere. I keep telling her that I'm FREAKIN DEPRESSED but she doesn't seem to care anymore.
This job is a perfect fit. The lighting is bad- all flourecent- no windows. I sit in a cubicle or the copy room listening to the hum of xerox. There is no music allowed. I haven't made any friends...by choice. So I go in, get the work done, and leave without having to talk to a soul. Thats probably best...since I'm not working with the public anymore showering daily and wearing make-up has become optional. The other cubicle walls are filled with personal photos that remind the cubicle occupant how much better life outside this place is. Depression seems to fester here. I like it.
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Oh, and before you complain about me, just remember : You never had it so good!
Get off the computer and get the freakin' Coke cans cleaned up! You think we live in a barn?!?
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