Blog Subject
Well, I’m at the end of my second week of workin’ for the man. I can’t say I really like getting up and going to work. Being on a schedule can be a real drag. I wear my little go-to-work clothes. I walk to the little go-to-work bus stop. Then I ride the go-to-work bus. And then, I do the reverse to go home every night. I lose 12 hours a day to this madness and I will earn just enough money to pay my bills and put away few pennies a week. It just doesn’t seem fair.
Admittedly, it’s not really hard. I know what I’m doing and I appreciate the level of energy in the office, dedicated but not frantic. Still I much prefer the freedom of setting my own hours. I suppose it is kind of like prison. They tell you when to get up, when to go to bed, when to eat, by extension when to dump, and what to wear. How often you need to cut your hair, what you can and cannot say during the day. It is kind of like prison, except the only crime I committed was to enjoy being responsible for myself.
Oh well, only 20 more years or so.
Admittedly, it’s not really hard. I know what I’m doing and I appreciate the level of energy in the office, dedicated but not frantic. Still I much prefer the freedom of setting my own hours. I suppose it is kind of like prison. They tell you when to get up, when to go to bed, when to eat, by extension when to dump, and what to wear. How often you need to cut your hair, what you can and cannot say during the day. It is kind of like prison, except the only crime I committed was to enjoy being responsible for myself.
Oh well, only 20 more years or so.
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