dude, who the hell cares.

i'm officially unemployed again. to my relief, randy announced last night that the project was over. on one hand, the job gave me a reason to leave the house. it was part-time, mindless, stress-free, provided zero to little interaction with the humanoids, and required no responsibility whatsoever. on the other hand, it was still work. i don't know what the difference was - i look at the computer screen all day, everyday, anyway. it's probably just a mental thing. i know that i can end this right now by clicking the "post" button, and find something else to do, whereas that job required me to sit still for a solid five hours, and didn't allow me to just walk away (even though i did, at least once to go home, and countless times to use the bathroom and/or get a drink). i guess it all just comes down to what philosopher constanza once said: "i don't think i've ever been to an appointment in my life where i wanted the other guy to show up."

being punctual, i think, at least for me, is the worst thing about working. and it's not even about being lazy, or having someone else dictate where i should be at what time (although i'm sure that's also part of the problem). for me, it's always wanting to just arrive precisely on the dot, and that almost never happens. i'm always too early, or else too late. i can never just arrive on the dot, and that's what i hate the most. and then i get so caught up in this petty workforce mentality that i swear at other drivers, get frustrated at every red light, and find myself panicked when i'm running just a little late. even if it's just for some shit job that i really don't give two shits about. i hate all work for the reason that it transforms people, makes them (us) think that what they're (we're) really doing matters, when, i'd say, 99% of the time, it really, really doesn't.

take my old supervisor, sister liane. how she would clench her teeth and suck in air each time she was worried something wouldn't work out. and each time, one could easily respond with, "dude. it's fucking americorps. who the hell cares?"

two team leaders contemplating for five minutes about whether the response: "the boy is doing chrumpit" should receive a 2 or a 0.

my old starbucks supervisor telling me i couldn't call in sick. "you have to call in before noon," she said. or else what? i wanted to say.

crystal hoobs stressing out over a young professionals meeting we were putting together at the american red cross. get it together, woman.

an irate customer at tower records: "what do you mean alicia keys' new album isn't out yet? i've seen it!" well, you should've fucking bought it when you saw it, sir. because it's not out yet.

every little glitch, every little mistake, or the simplest problem in any work situation, and it's catastrophic. it's the end of the world. even i get so wrapped up in it that i believe it myself sometimes.

idiots.

all of us.

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