routine burned into my mind.(why??! y cant i brush after bfast??)
8:00-run, and just make it in time to catch the shuttle..you wud think tat being the most intelligent of species (yet discovered), i wud learn my lesson and be early the next day.(hehe..wishful thinking)
9:00-office..(max security prison wud be more apt a description), empty cubicles to be filled in with blank faces. Some faces though do have tat all knowing smirk on their faces. all knowing..?? do they really know where they gonne be tomorow? just the knowledge tat a fat pay cheque will come at the end of the month. Yes, sell your soul and embrace a life of drudgery in exchange for them greens.
10:00- scores of mails read,written. when it comes to mailing..."look ma.. no hands"...tats abt the level of proficiency we get out here in this field of work.
11:00- yet again being shifted to another cubicle.. its time. how do you kno its time..? ur ass has turned ur cushion into a perfect fit for its each and every curve. sure sign of bein "benched"! ohhh..sorry.. the "state-tat-must-not-be-named"... else u stand the risk of bein lapped up and finally engulfed by the dark waters of "apac-benched".. only to be banished into oblivion.
12:30pm- visit the hallowed BBs to look up the menu for the day...why..? i eat watever is served in the name of food anyways.. the "food" at best looks like something a cow with an upset tummy left behind. did i hear some1 say nutritious..?
6:00pm- aaah.. the time i look fwd to.. catch the shuttle n go to my "home sweet home". home to yet another inexplicable void.
Been a year now since i was "herded" into this organisation..and the grass does seem greener on the other side.
"Sometimes I just feel like, quittin I still might
Why do I put up this fight, why do I still write
Sometimes it's hard enough just dealin with real life"
Rn.
1 comment:
Curled up in bed,
With a pencil in my hand.
Blank sheets of paper,
But no words are in my head.
Saying things to myself out loud,
But nothing seems to fit.
I've forgotten what it means to write,
I think I ought to quit.
But if I did,
Where would I be?
I'd leave no mark,
And I'd be nothing.
By Julie Schaefer, age 17
Post a Comment