What Have I Done?

So I've begun. I've begun the portion of my life known as the time when: “I'd rather be pounded from behind by a goat than think about the fact that I've entered the realm of business for 35 years.” For any naysayers, that IS a well-known term.

As things stand right now, I'm in a seat, I have a phone, and I have a non-functional computer. When the government knows you are coming for 6 months, all it means is that some idiot has 6 more months to peruse the latest gossip from Perez Hilton (I hate the fact that I know who that is, and even more so I hate that he is alive) rather than get you into a system that allows you to do *gasp* work. I can't even access the basic necessities of modern business.

And as a side note, I also have the sneaking suspicion that the guys two rows from me wants to wear my skin as a pirate hat. That whole "skin as an overcoat" thing from Silence of the Lambs is way overrated. Pirates hats are totally in style.

With the passing minutes, hours, and days, I'm beginning to realize that I am in it for the long haul. The long haul is actually a specific amount of time somewhere between “the time when I start contemplating leaping out the 4^th floor window,” and “the time when I realize that falling 4 stories won't necessarily kill me.” If I reach the latter point, at least I know I can look forward to being a vegetable. Hey, I'll get all the gelatin I can eat! Grape is my favorite!

Aside from delicious gelatin, I can only look forward to when I reach that glorious time when I can depart for the day (although technically my brain leaves at approximately 7:46am).

When you've spent 25 years of your life never taking yourself seriously, it's a difficult adjustment. All of a sudden, you are supposed to kiss the ass of the socially retarded people, you're supposed to bite your tongue when someone says something moronic, and you are supposed to keep your pants on at work. What bullshit.

I guess one good part of the day is when I sit down and write an essay such as this, because it sure looks like I'm putting together one hell of a report.

“My!” the supervisors say, “The new guy has written an entire report about an Excel spreadsheet that outlines cost estimates! What an employee! Maybe I should read it. Or maybe I should write my own...Oh God I'm going to be fired and he's going to take my position. I can't let that happen...maybe I should just end this misery. GOODBYE CRUEL WORLD!” Then, naturally, they leap out the 4^th floor window. Looks like I'm not the only one who loves grape gelatin.

It figures that someone would steal my idea.