(no subject)
So.
I hate my new job. Not just because I'm working for peanuts, either. I just don't like it. For the first time in my career in the service industry, I feel like I'm doing a job that's below me. I hate telling people where I work, and I get no sense of satisfaction.
Also there's no sense of family or comradary here.
I had a dream last night that I was a secret agent, probably because Jon and I went to see 'Burn After Reading' last night. In order to get the job I had to solve a puzzle. I was supposed to go to a certain floor, but when you take the elevator there, it was only a vacant floor. All gutted and abandoned. I went home and thought about it for a long time, then I went back. I figured out that in order to get to the real floor you had to, first, press the button for the floor you wanted, and once you got there, you had to press a secret button at the bottom. The first thing they showed me when I became a secret agent were the presidential lawn gnomes. There was one for every president, but they weren't doing majestic things, or anything, they were still doing gnomish stuff, like laying on their side and napping, etc.
How dissapointing it was to wake up and remember I work at a burger place on the hippest street in Brooklyn.
I hate my new job. Not just because I'm working for peanuts, either. I just don't like it. For the first time in my career in the service industry, I feel like I'm doing a job that's below me. I hate telling people where I work, and I get no sense of satisfaction.
Also there's no sense of family or comradary here.
I had a dream last night that I was a secret agent, probably because Jon and I went to see 'Burn After Reading' last night. In order to get the job I had to solve a puzzle. I was supposed to go to a certain floor, but when you take the elevator there, it was only a vacant floor. All gutted and abandoned. I went home and thought about it for a long time, then I went back. I figured out that in order to get to the real floor you had to, first, press the button for the floor you wanted, and once you got there, you had to press a secret button at the bottom. The first thing they showed me when I became a secret agent were the presidential lawn gnomes. There was one for every president, but they weren't doing majestic things, or anything, they were still doing gnomish stuff, like laying on their side and napping, etc.
How dissapointing it was to wake up and remember I work at a burger place on the hippest street in Brooklyn.