Another day as a gainfully employed person. I must say that this job stuff does not agree with me. It's not that I'm opposed to working per se, although given the choice I'd rather be dead, it's just that the job is pretty mindless. I suppose I have to work my way to the top, though, and that means wading through years of drudgery in a job I mildly dislike in order to get to a higher paying job that I dislike. Then I'll marry some chick who I'll grow to dislike, live in a house that I dislike in a town I dislike, and have my 2.4 kids who I'll probably dislike immediately, then get old and senile and sent to a nursing home that I'll dislike but be too demented to truly hate and then die and end up somewhere I'll probably dislike. Life is that way.
At least my job hasn't bled me of my sex drive. Sure, it stole my time, my energy, and my creativity, but the ol' Master still has a powerful grip on my brain. Example: Today we mixed with people from another department and one chick came in wearing a hideous lime-colored dress that happened to be deliciously TIGHT. Hell, she was wearing a bra, but we could still see her beamers. She could put an eye out with those things! She had big boobs, and a decent body to boot. She wasn't particularly cute, but she wasn't TOO hard on the eyes.
I'm glad I didn't have to work with her. The blood loss from my brain would have made it impossible to work.
The other thing Interesting today was that I got fast-talked by a 12 year-old who did my job better than I did. Basically, my job as it stands now involves me going to see a bunch of small business owners and try to get them on AT&T's cool new friggin' plan. This chickette basically did the same thing to me, telling me all of the good points of her deal, appealing to my compassion, and basically sticking me with a subscription to the Tribune-Review. Good thing for her I was already considering getting a newspaper subscription.
Yeah, that's what I'll tell myself.