Masterminx

The younger folks may never relate to this analogy. I don't think many of that generation would ever read what I have to say, anyway.

Hell, there aren't many from this generation who read this journal. Happenstance just doesn't favor it.

As I was saying, this day has been the long, scratchy hiss of the record player hitting the paper center of the album. Tomorrow, I can lift the arm and swing it out to the first track. Today, I hear only a hiss and a skip.

It has been a strange day. I feel as though I have dreamed a day full of anxiety and low-level stress, and soon I will sleep and dream of another place, another day, and be another person. Tomorrow I will wake, and it will be Monday. Life will be as good as it should be, and the sun will rise.

Of course, I am mistaken. Tomorrow is Wednesday, and it is going to rain again. Where did my sun go?

I really have to find an alternate solution to spending 14 hours of my day in the pursuit of monetary gain. Perhaps my days wouldn't be so strange if I didn't spend so much time getting ready for work, sitting at a desk, and driving back home. Of course, that doesn't include the time I spend getting ready to repeat the process by getting my clothes or lunch together before I go to bed. Nor does it include the time I spend studying and completing homework in the interest of being able to earn more money. I hate money. I hate work.

Right now, I hate everything.

Today, I found out that one of the biggest morons to ever leave our company was handed a position as a Project Coordinator for our biggest client. It's short-term, sure. But she's still pulling down $35 an hour, simply because her boyfriend is running the project. I'm disgusted with the whole scene. Honestly, this girl was so stupid, that her shadow had not even crossed the doorway on the way out before they asked me to redo her work and make it fucking functional. It makes my stomach hurt to think about this. It's my responsibility to make sure she's set up in the system so she can get paid.

Yeah, I'm all over that bullshit. Right after I do a few of the other billion things I need to do. Fuckheaded.

The biggest insult in that scenario is that there are good, intelligent, hard-working people, about whom I care very much, who need to be placed soon, and I am damn sure they won't be getting any special treatment. I hate this cocksucking industry.

All that anger makes my head hurt. The sad thing is, my buddy is not going to be pissed about that. He'll tell me that stuff like that deal with her is just par for the course. That's how it works, and I should accept that. Nevermind that Fife has been busting ass to make sure that she got placed. Nevermind that Fife should have been taking care of other business. Ugh.

It didn't take me very long to become jaded. They warned me, but I didn't listen. I wonder about the composition of my soul, after being in this place.

At least the rest of this week will find me sitting all alone on Office Row. Well, the next two days will; the receptionist is taking Friday off, and I have a feeling I'll be stuck at the front desk all day.

I hate my life, right about now.
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