Work As Life

Starting the day with 4 inches of snow I was hoping for a snow day. My truck has the distinction of being absolute crap in the snow, yet it plowed through the wet slushy shit like it was designed for the task. Smooth driving until the last mile where it looked like a scene from The Thing. Crazy whiteout situation and a snow plow throwing muck on my windshield.

I get in to work and all the usual suspects are there. Not a whole lot of hellos in that place. Real inviting. I’ve given them 11 years and I feel like a stranger there. Or it could just be a weeks worth of no sleep preying on my psyche. Who knows? Either way, it’s crap.

I talk to my boss who seems to be the only person I know from the early days. We’re rushing to create a presentation for a licensor and we’re quickly running out of time. Interrupting our meeting is the resident brown noser that needed to mention he’ll be here on the weekend even if there’s 3 feet of snow. Good to know, buddy. Is it wrong to wish that a murder of crows would flock out of nowhere to peck out his eyes? I didn’t think so.

Lunch with a coworker at our favorite breakfast joint, which today smelled like a backed up porta-John, leads to miserable discussions about the lack of opportunities for self employment. Who doesn’t want to be the master of their own destiny?

Back at work to toil away at one of the few things I can actually do well, even if it brings me such little joy. It’s a job, I don’t come here for the fun and excitement. It soon rolls past 5pm. Then 6pm, when I get my nightly visit from one of my you her coworkers. Usually to remind me that I’m working too late. Good kid. My bitter and sarcastic attitude might be rubbing off on him. Sorry, dude. You should do like the rest of them and avoid me lime I’ve got the plague. I decide he’s right after all and gather my shit up to leave. It’s 7:30 for god’s sake.

Home is the usual nightmare of 2011 financial woe. I find myself disgusted with this place every time I walk through the door. It makes me want to hop on my Spyder and ride off into the great beyond. I’m home for 20 minutes and already wish I’d stayed at work. There’s nothing but ungrateful animals and loneliness here. At least at work I don’t have to think about anything beyond font choices and render times and milestones. Who wants to sit in a dark house contemplating a midlife crisis?

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