damnation.
the weirdest thing about work is that while you're working, time actually passes really fast. and then you get the amazing feeling like you've actually done something productive during the day.
except you haven't really done anything but type a couple of documents and answer telephone calls and chuck a couple of pills into a little plastic bag.
work is thus, termable [if termable is, in actual fact, a word] as deceptively hard. by this, i mean that it fools people into thinking that you're actually doing something infinitely difficult and extremely adult and thus by this it means you are growing up and learning new things and being very productive, when actually, you really haven't learnt anything that you haven't already known since you were in kindergarten. pick up the phone. put this into that bag. form complete sentences. and while you are preoccupied with the joy that you're growing up so fast and learning so many new things, your brain gradually disintegrates into nothingness, and you truly forget whatever you've learnt in school.
the good thing about being employed by your mom is, she doesn't actually need you to be there.
in fact, in an almost sad, pathetic kind of way, you are like her own personal charity case. no matter how hard you work, you are still, rather evidently, hideously overpaid. the fellow staff, of course, cannot truly b**** about you, because, well, word might get to you, the prissy daughter of the boss, and they might all get themselves fired. [not that my mom would actually lay off anybody for my sake. it's highly more probable that i would be sent home to wallow in self-pity.] thus the situation eliminates all forms of office politics, and you are completely freed from any need for artifice and interpersonal duplicity. which is actually a very good thing, considering i probably wouldn't be able to pull that off. you are also provided lunch, right at your desk-step, and from company coupons so you don't have to pay for ANYTHING.
in a sense, it's like being back at kindergarten, except you're getting paid for it, you don't have to do ci zi, and the bigger kids can't chase you around the playground and put sand in your pinafore.
but what was my point? ahh. yes. she doesn't need you.
therefore, if you betray even the smallest hint of a flu, she tells you to stay home and happily traipses off to work by herself. leaving you quite effectively stranded with nothing to do. but of course, the good thing is you get to stay home and sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep and.. ahhh. but well, considering i've slept quite enough and already made my bed... what can i possibly do now?
*whistles
my life is really much, much more fulfilling than it sounds, i assure you.
except you haven't really done anything but type a couple of documents and answer telephone calls and chuck a couple of pills into a little plastic bag.
work is thus, termable [if termable is, in actual fact, a word] as deceptively hard. by this, i mean that it fools people into thinking that you're actually doing something infinitely difficult and extremely adult and thus by this it means you are growing up and learning new things and being very productive, when actually, you really haven't learnt anything that you haven't already known since you were in kindergarten. pick up the phone. put this into that bag. form complete sentences. and while you are preoccupied with the joy that you're growing up so fast and learning so many new things, your brain gradually disintegrates into nothingness, and you truly forget whatever you've learnt in school.
the good thing about being employed by your mom is, she doesn't actually need you to be there.
in fact, in an almost sad, pathetic kind of way, you are like her own personal charity case. no matter how hard you work, you are still, rather evidently, hideously overpaid. the fellow staff, of course, cannot truly b**** about you, because, well, word might get to you, the prissy daughter of the boss, and they might all get themselves fired. [not that my mom would actually lay off anybody for my sake. it's highly more probable that i would be sent home to wallow in self-pity.] thus the situation eliminates all forms of office politics, and you are completely freed from any need for artifice and interpersonal duplicity. which is actually a very good thing, considering i probably wouldn't be able to pull that off. you are also provided lunch, right at your desk-step, and from company coupons so you don't have to pay for ANYTHING.
in a sense, it's like being back at kindergarten, except you're getting paid for it, you don't have to do ci zi, and the bigger kids can't chase you around the playground and put sand in your pinafore.
but what was my point? ahh. yes. she doesn't need you.
therefore, if you betray even the smallest hint of a flu, she tells you to stay home and happily traipses off to work by herself. leaving you quite effectively stranded with nothing to do. but of course, the good thing is you get to stay home and sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep and.. ahhh. but well, considering i've slept quite enough and already made my bed... what can i possibly do now?
*whistles
my life is really much, much more fulfilling than it sounds, i assure you.
posted by jo at 09:30
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