RadicalGraphics.org :: Work :: 11Posted: July 2, 2009
- Actually, I did go to work. But this suddenly seemed very appealing, so I pretended to be at home. Odd how people stare at you when you imagine yourself in pyjamas bringing a stuffed toy to your desk. In a little while you start making funny animal shapes with paper clips and Post-Its, then wander over to the coffee maker while yawning and scratching your… never mind. Finally you collapse into your ergonomic chair — they are called ergonomic for a good reason you realize since they encourage certain postures which do not include ‘curled up’ with your jacket covering your head. The mail guy comes over with a fax (I still get those?) and tosses it onto a now growing pile. Finally you feel someone nudging you. You turn over and it’s your boss arranging your jacket so that you are more comfortable. You smile at him. He smiles back at you. “I need your signature here” He says. You reach for your pen and mindlessly sign it.
It’s another week of unemployment but I feel good; I have control of my life. No more faxes to ignore and meetings to attend while pretending to pay attention…what are those guys looking at in that trashbin? Bet you it tastes good… Yes Father, I used to have a job, but I don’t think four Hail Mary’s will help much…
Florescent lighting feels comforting for a change. There is no pile of faxes, I must have dreamed myself into the 80’s. A decade earlier and I would have had a typewriter on my desk. That would have been cool.