Monday, December 15, 2008

The more things change the more nails stab your feet

I think my office is going to collapse.

And not in the cool holy shit its on fire and way. No this is going to collapse like a building in India way. Ill justify this statement with a story of why i now have a gangster ass limp.

I had to go upstairs here at the office so i could go through some records. That means getting a ladder, going above the speaker repair rooms and climbing the wall, officially meaning that our records are as hard to get ahold of as Fannie May without a subpoena. So i finally scale a wall of perfectly smooth drywall that im not allowed to kick a hole in to get a footing (stupid office damage policies) i end up on the evactuated second floor of this office. Now, according to Dade county fire code, this second floor is not to be used at any time. Were not supposed to have access to it. And thats why i have to scale a wall of drywall.

So as im on the second floor, i walk across to the lone shelf with our wonderfull stacks of banker boxes piled high as if to say 'yeah you try and find that gorram file your looking for punk'. well after about 2 hours of going through boxes i got it. am walking back across to the ladder point and a freaking nail goes through my shoe and into my foot. the second time this has happened in the year and a half have worked here.

And for some odd reason this whole nail in the bottom of my foot thing got me thinking about my job. Now i know, i have a job and times are tough, but i mean seriously, last week i was a 19 year old running a company and now im getting everyone lunch again cuz i told my boss i was going into the military. Thats kinda fucked up.

I dont know anymore guys.. I like my boss, hes a cool motherfucker. But at the same time, hes a duchebag of epic proportions sometimes. I gues thats the job of a boss, but idk i mean i hate this whole having to be friends with my coworkers bullshit. I dont like them, they dont like me and we aint no fucking happy family and when we try to be, its just like my dysfunctional family at home and who wants that shit.

So the more things change the more they stay the same. I move across the country to get away from my parents, only to have the things i left forcefed to me again through a different tube. I left to get away from nails going thru my boots at the ranch, now they go through my loafers.


GOD i cant wait till september.

Oh, and on the practical side i wish i could collect unemployment for the next few months so i can do fuckall and just work out till i ship out. But i hate handouts so i will keep working.

nails through loafers and all.

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