the man grinds me under his boot

[fictional]

i come into my office today, back from what was meant to be a vacation, but was actually a stressed out time filled with moving, packing, unpacking, cleaning, annoying relatives and a few blessed moments with some of my dearest friends. the soul-bath in the City did help, but now i am back here, far too soon. in the Pit.
have i mentioned i hate my job? i walk in and there's a note in my mailbox, reprimanding me (in a polite way) for not getting more done on the paper that i'm writing for them.
let me say that again, not enough work done on the PAPER that i am writing, in a field i have NO qualifications in, for a job that was billed as filing and office assistant!
i hate it here.
i just wrote an e-mail applying for a job working as assistant to the artistic director at the Kitchen Theater. think good thoughts for me, everyone. 'cause if i don't get out of here soon, i may spontaneously combust.

Comments

[sykii.livejournal.com]

"the man grinds me under his boot"
-I thought you were into that sort of thing.

Seriously, major job beams. It sounds perfect for you, and you for it.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

oh, i do.
i just like to pick the man.

or the woman...any takers? ;-)