... About My Desire to Be More Zen

Some days I just feel so bitter, so angry, so violent. Some days I have to fight the impulse to spit on people. Some days I find myself shooting dirty looks at nobody in particular.

These days are called Workdays.

I feel like some kind of Transformer Bot. You know me, Reader. You know how I'm generally an upbeat kind of person. I may be sarcastic, but I'm usually in fairly good humor. I crack jokes and smile a lot. Overall, I'd say I'm pretty cheerful (but if I'm not, don't tell me. I like living in my web of lies. It comes with free cable). But at work, it's a different story. At work I automatically transform into Angry Girl, and Angry Girl has issues. She avoids talking to people, because she knows that at any given moment she could snap and start firing off her Insult Gamma Ray. Angry Girl also has Judo Chop Action, and if someone pushes any of her buttons the results could be disastrous. One of Angry Girl's most distinctive features is her higher-than-normal core body temperature, which means an unexpected eruption could be just seconds away! Angry Girl is not recommended for children under three.

There are people that don't understand why I hate my job so much. These are most likely the same sort of people who think life is all about pushing through things we don't want to do in order to salvage a few brief moments in which we can thoroughly enjoy ourselves, also known as "Working For the Weekend"-ers. Time and time again, they have tried to convince me that no matter where I work, I'm always going be in a position where I'd rather be somewhere else. I'll always count the hours until I can leave. "All jobs suck," they say. "It's just a matter of finding one that sucks less than the one you have now."

These people are pessimists. Also, they're wrong.

Yes, I appreciate that to the untrained eye, my job doesn't seem that bad. It's not in the least ways what you would call "challenging" work. I know you think I could definitely use a pay raise, and it sucks that I get absolutely no benefits whatsoever, but is it really that bad? Yes, Reader. Yes, it is. Because my biggest problem with my job is not the pathetic salary or the lack of mental stimulation. It's the fact that it makes me feel so infuriatingly livid for no clear reason at all. I can't explain it, but I have a literal headache every weekday from 8am to 5pm. I honestly think that if it weren't for this minor little detail, I could tolerate my job until I find one that I'll actually enjoy.

I want to be like Peter Gibbons from Office Space. He was so freaking Zen. Maybe I should visit a hypnotherapist on the verge of death. Worked for Peter. It could work for me.

I will find a job I love. That's a promise. Someday - hopefully soon - Angry Girl will make her way to the Land of Misfit Toys, never to be seen again, until some elf-dentist and his meddlesome reindeer with newfangled ideas wander by and then POW! CRASH! BOOM! Who wants some barbecued venison?!




p.s. I wrote this post at 10:30am today. At 4:45pm I quit my job. Go, me!