So it's ONE YEAR since I started my job at the company, and it's official.
I hate my job.
Well I don't hate it 100%. I'd say I do like 30% of it. It pays reasonably well, though not well enough you could roll around in caviar but hey. It pays reasonably well. It's *really* cushy. Which is good and bad.
But the rest of the 70% is sooo disturbing on so many levels... it makes me become angsty again, with all the pent up rage against the machine. And I hate that it makes me become that. But that's what I've become.
So here it is. Angst. Rage. Frustration. Bleagh.
*shrugs*
I'm trying. But it's Sunday evening, 30 minutes away from Monday. And I'm sure you've felt that feeling before.
I saw a bunch of national slavery army recruits at the train station awaiting their transports to the basic-hell-camp. The emotion: shuddering nostalgia tinged with a slight sadistic glee and a smattering of relief, made the Sunday blues slightly better.
