Everyday I'm Hustlin...

Just another Tuesday on the grind...





It is getting harder and harder...and harder to come to work each day. I know I have some sort of aversion to working staying in one place too long- I acknowledge that and am working on it- but pushing this damn paper all over my office isn't making it any better.

This worst thing about this job is that I'm writing this post in the best of moods. You see, most people abhor their jobs typically when they're already having a bad day. Usually, when you're in a good mood, even sliding down the pole at Magic City doesn't seem so bad and it's a great way to burn off those extra calories.

But today, even though I'm in a great mood and there are pretty clouds in the sky and the slightest hint of a breeze, all I can think about right now is taking a running start, crashing through this window, and impaling myself on one of the giant ass limbs of this giant ass pine tree I keep staring at day after day. I imagine the weight of my body will force the limb to rip up through my intestines and rib cage. Maybe some guts will even drip down on the miserable little cockroach students gawking up at me from below... ... ...*insert other absurd and morbid sounding things that tickle your fancy*... ... ...

But, I just remembered I have a new handbag that I have yet to carry.  I guess that whole bloody scenario is out of the question.

It's 11:00 a.m.  I've already missed half the morning but I'm still taking a lunch. PROBLEM?! I didn't think so. I'm not quite ready to go yet but I can't decide if I want to do some online window shopping or read up some more of the internet.

It's 11:11 a.m. I just entered some Captain American/Juicy Fruit contest to instantly win $100,000. There was a code on the inside of my Juicy Fruit package. I was an instant loser. FML.

It's 11:14 a.m. Do you know where your children are?

Cleary, you can see that I am bored out of mind. There is a stack of work on my desk as high as Lebron James' hairline and I just flat out refuse to do it. I'm even too bored to do some job hunting.  I really want to ask Bill and Eric if they think this is what the True Death feels like.

It's 11:21 a.m. and I'm sucking the minty flavor off of the floss I got from my dentist yesterday.

It's so ironic that I got the you-still-have-a-job letter from the President today... I'm really glad that it'd be next to impossible for my boss to fire me on the basis of my sheer laziness, absence of concern, and increasing lack of attention to...well, anything. It's the little things, y'all.

It's 11:27 a.m. and I'm thinking about how I'm going to peace up out of here at 11:45.

It's 11:30. I just printed a Mediatakeout.com article that I copied and pasted to a word document and went and grabbed it off the printer really dramatic like-complete with loud breathing and frustrated sighs to make it look like I was knee deep in some important task.

It's 11:37 a.m. I'm back at my desk watching the clock. My bosses are all up in arms about the rising costs of paper clips and "sign here" tabs.

It's 11:39 a.m. I need a drink. I was allowed a lunchtime cocktail at my last job. But my last boss was insane and has since been removed from his post. So maybe that wasn't the best idea?

It's 11:41 a.m. I'm about to go and announce really loudly "OMG, these PIs are crazy! I'm going to lunch!*growl**deep sigh*." I get an hour lunch so that means I'll be back around, um...add 5 minutes and carry the one... 1:15 and ready to rinse and repeat this pitiful chain of events until about 4:59 p.m. at which point I will promptly shoot out of here like a bat out of hell.

Welcome to my hustle.