Who Wants Parasites?
So, one of the interesting things about being in my particular situation (those of you in the know know what I’m talking about) is that when one works 10 hours a day at a mindless, soul-crushing temp job and then comes home to find his lover over a thousand miles away, one has quite a bit of time to think. The flip side of this is that when one is working 10 hours a day at a mindless, soul-crushing temp job and comes home to find his lover over a thousand miles away, one doesn’t have many interesting things going on in one’s life to ponder.
“Where are you going with this, Kev?” says that fucker in the back row.
Well, I’m just trying to segue from the perhaps misleading photo I posted last week into the sheer mundanity (sure it’s a word, jerks) that is my life this summer. Not that I’m saying I’m boring or anything. Far from it. It’s you who are wrong. You all lack imagination. You all can’t see the pure adrenaline that I deal with on a daily basis.
The sad thing about numeric data entry is that if you’re not careful, even your fantasies become lame. If you’re negligent of your imagination you’ll find yourself thinking about how cool it would be to use, like, 12 keys instead of 10. So to keep things interesting, I like to imagine all the germs I’m picking up from those ten brown, stained number keys on my public computer. And after I wash my hands sixty-two times a day, I think of all the stale, middle-aged farts that have been buried in my borrowed office chair, making all the people around me think that I smell bad. When most people think of the word “cubicle,” they tend to think of buzzing flourescent lights (yes), the incessant clicking of computer keyboards (yes), and the overall sterility of the whole scene (no!). What nobody ever thinks about is how many asses and hands have graced that same cell before yours. And when you think of all these things, it will give you sufficient fodder to worry about for years after you leave the job (my toe hurts - is it the fungus I probably got working at SourceCorp in ‘05?). I think the moral of my story is this: if your life is starting to seem mediocre, develope a case of OCD and some moderate paranoia - it’ll make every day an adventure. Now does anyone have any ointment?
May 4th, 2005 at 9:49 pm
Nah, dude. You most likely got that fungus slipping through a pile of cat vomit in your bare feet on the way to the shower one morning. Oh wait, that was me. This morning. The best part of waking up/is slipping in some puke.