I Hate My Job

 I hate my job. 

Not very original-I get it. Lots of people hate their job. So why would anyone want to hear about mine? Well, frankly, you don't. You don't give a rat's ass about my stupid problem of a makin'a living any more than anyone cares about anyone's stupid problem of staying afloat in this ridiculous job culture.

My oldest daughter says that Amazon doesn't care if it's employees drink alcohol on the job. I know that she's not the most reliable source but, what the what??? She goes even further. "Yeah, you can go out and smoke a blunt if you want. They ain't gonna say anything."  I'm pretty sure that she's high as she tells me this. 

My brother hates his job. He takes care of my 93 year old mother. I need to ponder on that one. That's really, actually a good job. Well, the social life's not that great but what the hell? Neither is mine! I guess it could be, but I'm too miserable, due to hating my job, to do anything but come home, feed the cats (they're adorable, by the way) and go to bed. I've cut off all social experiences in my life because, well, I hate my job. It doesn't make me good socially. It's all I think about. 

I dream about that thing too. What a crappy thing to occupy your dreams. And then I wake up in the middle of the night and think about how, in 3 more hours, I'll be back at work. Fun stuff.

Someone told me that I probably have sleep apnea. Maybe. But then I think, if I sleep all night without waking up, doesn't that open the window for more night terrors about the you-know what? It's a conundrum. 

Does anyone actually like their job?  Maybe bloggers....