2002-11-04 - 12:53 p.m.
I was met this morning at work with such a gut wrenching feeling of not wanting to be here. At the office, not that I�m suicidal. Yet. It�s way too early in the week for that and I haven�t sat through near enough meetings. I give it until Wednesday afternoon as the old VP of my department is visiting and is taking me out to lunch tomorrow. He�s Scottish and at times is incomprehensible. I also am leaving early tomorrow. Because I can. Well, the reason is that I�m voting, and must vote in my old district, as I never registered in San Jose. So, I�m taking time for that. And corporate policy dictates that white-collar exempt employees are allowed 2 hours. So 2 hours I�m taking. BooYah. I think my adverse reaction to work is the extra responsibility that they keep adding, without any additional support. And now I�m being pressured to move upstairs. To complete my transition from Sales lacky to general lacky, something I�ve been putting off since running out to save my friends from a trap in a floating mining colony. Part of me wants to just quit. This is a tired Rant, I understand. Even I�m tired of it, and I like to beat dead horses. Which is why the PETA people are on my case. Luckily there is much drama in the office, the VP�s admin booked him on an AM flight but everyone thought it was a PM flight, and a trial link for an important government contract was knocked down in a storm. So there are distractions to my petty personal issues. I think I�ll just clean my cube and ignore everything until people actually come over and talk to me, instead of Email and the Phone. It�s a good plan. It�s days like today that I imagine how pleasant it would be, to have some sort of mild retardation. Just enough to where I could be childlike and the state would take care of me. Not have to be responsible or worry about things. How a happy meal would make my day. I could collect Pokeman cards and wear clothing from Target without guilt. It�s a pleasant thought. I imagine I could manufacture some workplace incident that would leave me in such a state, thus ensuring Workmen�s Comp and AFLAC keep me in juice and cookies for the rest of my life. It�s the next best thing to the executive tier, and probably easier to get to. I�ll have to do some research on exactly how many volts the copy machine has, and what the resistance rate of my letter opener is. Because I�m thinking that bad boy is about to �jam�.
Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29
Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19
- - 2007-07-11
Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20
Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18
Guestbook Notes