I've been submerged in so much stuff that I need to do (and not knowing how to do 99% of it) ever so quickly that I'm left wondering to myself, "Garrick, when the hell did you become an adult?" 13-hour work days pass me by like a motion picture. And everyone around me is doing the same, so it seems normal - I like how the firm brainwashes you to think that. The other day Larry calls me at around 8:30PM to ask what I was up to. I replied quite irritably, and to the effect of, "It's during business hours on a Monday.. What do you think I'm doing?"
When I start up my computer to continue work at home, luckily, yet unfortunately, I find people on the firm's internal messaging system up with me cranking away til whenever. We'd try to encourage each other and say things like, "We'll work til 1:30, then off to bed." 1:30 will come around, and we'll sort of 'hit the snooze button' and push for just half an hour more. Funny how that works.
Anyway, I digress. Time. (By the way, the song Time, by Pink Floyd is cycling in my head as I'm writing this.) The more I do, the faster it seems to pass, the further I feel I am from the version of me that is not what I am now: an underpaid automaton that is, like many others, the subject of corporate slavery.
"You can check-out any time you'd like, but you can never leave."
--DON HENLEY and THE EAGLES, "HOTEL CALIFORNIA"
This time last year, I had three beautiful dates for VDay. This year, I'm married to my haggardly & abusive job. But God forbid the bitch divorce me.
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