A Day in the Life

Ugh, what an awful day. Mind you, I'm sure that there are lots of people that have had days waaay worse than mine, but I don't happen to know any of them and I don't read the paper, and so there you go. What, you might ask, is so terrible about having literally NOTHING to do for 8 hours except sit and saturate my already soaked brain with more celebrity gossip? It's not so much that... its the thought that, given recent developments, I could be doing this every day for however long it takes me to earn enough money to get the guts to go out and find a better job. It's that I've just spent four years writing papers, essays, and more papers for the sake of that piece of paper that is supposed to signify success. And here I am answering telephones, and, if I'm lucky, doing some photocopying. I mean, I feel like I could have saved some time and skipped the whole college thing, hell even high school, because the skill level required to do my job is, well, minimal at best. And I still manage to fuck it up by not being "enthusiastic" enough when I answer the phone. Probably because half the time I end up calling the company the wrong name (I'm sorry, but it is a mouthful so to speak). goodmorningmetropolitanresearchassociateslauraspeakinghowmayihelpyou?

So it tends to come out sounding just like that looks, and I guess people noticed.

Note to self: find the nearest drug dealer, sit, chat, and take notes.