Evening folks. Yeah, I had a mental breakdown at work today. I didn’t yell or hurt anybody, but I decided I couldn’t work in that hack shop one more minute. Being the sensible person I am, I called JDubs for advice: answer this question lover – do I stay at work and have a coniption fit or do I quit? She said if I can’t stand it, just get out now (and she works in HR). “No two weeks?” I asked. She said, “You had a similar break down two weeks ago and two weeks before that. I don’t think I can listen to this song and dance in another two weeks from now. Just quit.”
I said, “What about money and evrything else?”
“We’ll figure it out later. Just get out,” she said. And she hung up. I sat there for a moment thinking of all the reasons not to quit and then remembered the reasons I should. My happiness is important. My sanity is important. I deserve better. That’s true. Without haste I went to my boss and told her this is it, “this job is killing me.” No notice. Just ‘poof’. I’m gone. Hardest decision I’ve had to make in a long time. Best choice I’ve ever made. Hooray me! I now have the opportunity to be what I want to be, a sex toy salesman/ventriliquist. Now the work worth doing begins and I couldn’t be more frightened.
JDubs dropped a heavy simile on me the other day. She said, “A life of work is like going to school.” She explained that when you’re first starting off, it’s like kindergarten and you learn and grow. As time moves on, you advance and you mature and you grow hair in places that you didn’t know you could. She said that one day, each person becomes the Dean of Students in the college of his specific field.
I’m trying to apply her example to my life. I am currently employed behind the scenes of an abortion mill. I work in a warehouse where, among other things, I ensure that death centers are well stocked with coat hangers, lubricant and trash bags. Additionally, there is such a huge collection of condoms that I can take a swim through like Scrooge McDuck used to in his coin vault (Either that or I’ll try them all on). It’s not as fun as you’d think as I do this ad nauseum and I am very unsatisfied (murdering fetuses is great and all, but…it’s kind of boring).
When I reflect back on JDubs statement, I get a sense that “Work is like school” does not apply to the folks that aren’t in the right school. I feel that I’m not even enrolled. I’m like a twelve-year-old in preschool masturbating not-so-covertly in my greenish overalls while everyone else is awkwardly moving away. In this strange land, I look like one of those ADHD kids that can’t be trusted to roam freely. I’m tied to a tree with a leash and harness that closely resemble a monkeys tail (kind of like this…Philip from SNL). Not only am I not a growin’ and a learnin’, I’m actually getting dumber and less anxious to go to class. What’s worse is that I tied myself to the tree and only I have the ability to escape. But I won’t. My spirit has been diminished. You might as well ask a Senior to buy me a carton of smokes and leave me to die; unfulfilled, miserable, and retarded.
I have learned from this example that I alone hold the key. I can register in any school that I want. I am well qualified to start at the bottom anywhere. Even idiots get to succeed at work (just look at my boss Mrs. Stransard). So I know what I am going to do. I am going to break free. I’m ambitious and I know more about what I want to do than ever before. Look out School of Tap Dance For the Blind, Deaf, & Dumb; Here I Come! I’d better bring some of those condoms;)
I am the self proclaimed king of face stuffing. Above all foods, cereal is the one I prefer to stuff my face with. I like all the kinds. I just cram it down my crammity cram hole. It’s a great way to start the day, end the day, take a break from the day, drown emotions I don’t want to feel every day, and enjoy the day. I crave it. Sometimes I crave it so much that I do weird things. Is it ok to mix cereals? Yeah, it is.
What if I get down to the end of one box and the bowl is only half full? No one should fill up half ways…what a waste of milk and time. I gotta top off before I slop off. Besides, how else am I supposed to get 35% of my daily fiber intake while fulfilling my essential marshmallow quota? Fiber One + Count Chocula is what.
I only postulate because I saw my lovely honey bear’s father, Dougras, mixing salad dressings one time. Ranch and blue cheese would have been kosher with me (not literally, it was bacon ranch), but he doused balsamic vinegarette and a honey mustard sauce all over his salad. It was a vinegary, creamy mess….ladies?
All I can think is that I looked that disgusting with my cereal blends. I mean, it’s not really a Cold Stone Creamery mix in selection: “Yes, hi. How’s it going? Can I get the baby batter ice cream with, hmmm? I think I’ll try thousand island and skittles. Uh, I hope it’s good?” Ah yeah, no. You look nuts. Why don’t you try one of the pre-crafted options like the candy/candy mix up? At least those are crafted from the same elements like sugar and heart disease.
But what makes cereal so different? The combinations are endless and could potentially be just as revolting as mixing Kraft and Paul Newman’s Own salad dressings. The difference, my friend, is that cereal, no matter what variety, starts with the same base ingredients; grains.
Dressing is made with all sorts of crap like mayonnaise or vinegar or alkaline metals or poison oak. It doesn’t matter how much sugar you dump onto it, a grain is a grain and they all taste the same. And there’s nothing wrong with homogeneity. So next time you’re down to that last little bit of Lucky Charms and you don’t want to waste your sugary milk, go ahead. Go ahead and top ‘er off with some of your grandmother’s Muesli.
Everything’s going to be just fine because it all looks the same in the end, especially with all of that extra fiber you’re getting.
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