It isn't worth it.

Jan 28, 2006 16:18

I want to find a job that provides me with doing the most menial tasks possible. Something where I don't have to talk to a single person besides my supervisor for eight hours. Where I have to sort out papers or even make sure the floor on the ground doesn't have any sneaker marks. I'll have time to sit down and read a book or work on a short story - but no leaving the post! What if somebody comes in and steals something? No, I'll take care of all that. Just my being there will prevent any foul-play.

And there I'll write letters to all my ex-lovers and it will beg them to please not mention me to any future boyfriends, one-night stands, fuckbuddies or the like. Husbands, if possible. To not try and come up for a conclusion about who I am (or was) and allow them to conclude just what kind of loser I am. Or to save you the embarassment for alligning yourself with the kind of loser I am. No, my loves (it lasts forever, does it not?), it'd be best if I only existed on the tips of your tounges.

Alex

bittersweet, essay, depression, work

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