Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
I woke up to the banging of the rain on my window. I vaguely remember the dream I had.
It was very cold as I slip out of my bed. Another morning, another day. Everything seems familiar as the day before.
I twist the knob which opens up to the world outside. I turn the key that starts the engine. I press the button that guards intrusion.
I sit at my desk. The computer blinks to life. The coffee taste bitter. My incompetent boss slumbers in. I should be the superior.
I walk here I walk there. Something is getting built but I am not sure. I dodge twisted metal, jump over holes, watch for falling anvils.
Chit chat here. Chit chat there. Everyone knows why we are screwing up. But still nothing happens. Everyone thinks they should be the manager. God help us all.
Lunch. Microwave. Sandwich. Caffeine. Nicotine. Facebook.
Type type type. The great pretender sits behind managing the internet. I wonder how much he is getting paid.
Time to go home. Someone seems to be quick out the door. Work always appears at sunset. Type type type.
Dinner. Long hair waitress and a hot mamma. Food is crap but the view is excellent. Maybe one day she will want to flirt with me. I am chinese but cant speak a word of it. Embarrassment.
Home. TV. X-box. Facebook. BBC. Messenger. Yawn. Facebook. Picture. Nostalgia. MBA? Yawn. Read Read Read. Yawn.
Bed. Gee, I am looking forward to tomorrow.
It was very cold as I slip out of my bed. Another morning, another day. Everything seems familiar as the day before.
I twist the knob which opens up to the world outside. I turn the key that starts the engine. I press the button that guards intrusion.
I sit at my desk. The computer blinks to life. The coffee taste bitter. My incompetent boss slumbers in. I should be the superior.
I walk here I walk there. Something is getting built but I am not sure. I dodge twisted metal, jump over holes, watch for falling anvils.
Chit chat here. Chit chat there. Everyone knows why we are screwing up. But still nothing happens. Everyone thinks they should be the manager. God help us all.
Lunch. Microwave. Sandwich. Caffeine. Nicotine. Facebook.
Type type type. The great pretender sits behind managing the internet. I wonder how much he is getting paid.
Time to go home. Someone seems to be quick out the door. Work always appears at sunset. Type type type.
Dinner. Long hair waitress and a hot mamma. Food is crap but the view is excellent. Maybe one day she will want to flirt with me. I am chinese but cant speak a word of it. Embarrassment.
Home. TV. X-box. Facebook. BBC. Messenger. Yawn. Facebook. Picture. Nostalgia. MBA? Yawn. Read Read Read. Yawn.
Bed. Gee, I am looking forward to tomorrow.
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