On Insanity

I think I paint my nails so I have something cheerful to look at during the day — that partially obstructed view of the mountains ain’t cuttin’ it.

When I was a kid, I was pretty sure I could handle a cubicle job, no problem. Jobs are just for money, right? Who needs a stimulating career if you’ve got a reliable paycheque?

Oh, how wrong I was. I’m seriously considering taking a pay cut and getting out of here if it means I don’t have to be trapped behind a desk, peering through multiple windows just to get a glimpse of the outside.

Pretty pretty Barbie pink nails.

Keep all sharp objects away from me.

Did you get that memo?

My life is starting to feel like Office Space: pointless emails, meetings about nothing, clichés like “That’s why they call it work!”…my God, I even have a Swingline stapler.

I still find little ways to amuse myself, though — the washroom is only ever used on the company’s time, never on my breaks, and I send high-priority emails to my friend with such important topics as DO YOU WANT TO GO TO LUNCH??

Beers after work never hurt, either.