Die, you stupid Xerox machine

I'm going to say the thing that everyone is thinking but maybe doesn't want to say, maybe won't even dare admit it to themselves. I hate being a working adult. It blows.

I only work two days a week and for five hours. It's nowhere near as bad as working five or six days a week, I know. But when you're doing work that a monkey could easily handle and being treated like you're incapable of doing said work, there's nothing to do but bite down the scream clawing at your throat.

Every morning I have work, I wake up ten, maybe 20, minutes before my 9:30 a.m. alarm, worried I've missed it. I am not even sure that I don't wish I would miss it. Then I get up when my alarm rings, go to the bathroom, and hop back in bed for 11 minutes (until 9:45 a.m.).

Then that alarm goes off and I've got no choice but to force myself to throw on some clothes -- I'm supposed to follow our strict and grammatically incorrect dress code -- and grab whichever purse I need that day and run out the door. Then of course, I have a tendency to miss the 3 bus that comes at 10:12 a.m. when it comes a few minutes early and I'm about 50 feet away from the bus stop.

Then I get to work a few minutes before 11 a.m. and yet, the computer I use to log on to record my time stamp, always takes a few minutes to load -- meaning I stamp in at 11:01 a.m. and, according to my supervisor, have to wait until exactly 4:01 p.m. to log off. Because that one minute will make a difference in my pay. Christ.

I try to get through each day by remembering that working here gives me money so that I can go out with friends and Chris after work and on the weekends, etc. It's a struggle but it helps a little.

Now.. it's 1:30 p.m. I get a half-hour break for lunch and then it's two more hours till I'm on my way to Chris'. I can't wait.