Work is for suckers

I worked all day at my new part-time job. It's shitty, but it pays. I spent all day putting contact info into a database that will eventually be used to sell stuff to people and it's boring and I'm not going to talk about it anymore.

Except that at one point I actually started slipping down my chair as crushing despair started to overwhelm me until my eyes were barely above the table and my arm was jacked way above my head so I could still use my mouse. After that got too uncomfortable, I stopped trying to click through the pages and just sat sighing loudly for a couple of minutes. The guy in the cubicle next to me didn't say anything, but I could tell he was watching me and wondering when I was gonna pull out my gun. I think they're already regretting hiring me.

Hell, maybe I will sell my blog. I wonder if the price will go up since I've finally added a graphic to my profile. Thanks to Giraffe for that strikingly accurate portrait of me. I've sometimes wondered what I'd look like as a comic book hero. No spandex for me.