Tic-Toc

My day is a pendulum which swings wildly between nodes of boredom and frustration. It swings without regard to the laws of physics demonstrated by Da Vinci or illustrated by Newton’s Laws. Tic-Toc.

Tic – Ten thirty, nothing to do.
Toc – Ten forty-five, stupid kid needs help tying funds.
Toc – Eleven fifteen, research another bad rate
Tic – Twelve, nothing to do. Too early to leave for lunch, too late to adjust income.
Tic – Two, back from lunch, nothing to do.
Tic – Three, traders leave the floor. I sit at my desk
Tic – Four, in ten minutes we might see some action…
Toc – Four fifteen, stupid kid has income problems that should have been picked up two hours ago. This will take half an hour to fix while the rest of the group starts turning in their funds.

Meanwhile, these posts are really starting to bore the hell out of me. What’s the deal folks?! I haven’t been able to write comically or coherently for weeks now…maybe longer than that. I’ve nothing left to work for. I’ve hit the end of my rope… Cute girl left. Pretty girl moved to the other side of the floor, and we’re all at least 98% certain she’s not going to go out with me, especially after being mocked by John and Felecia at that bar, I don’t think anything less than a 25% salary increase would make the day-to-day dealing with the stupid kid worth it…there’s nothing left for me here. I’m tapped out.

Maybe that’s really true. Maybe I’ve stumbled upon the problem. With pretty girl out of the picture I don’t have any reason to come in to work – except for the work, and that’s really the worst reason to go into work on the planet. What are my options? Do I bail on the group? Do I leave the company? Do I retreat to a remote cabin in the wilderness and start typing a manifesto outlining the problems with corporate America? Or ditch it all, take a pair of jeans and my leather jacket and whatever I can fit in a knapsack and hitchhike my way across the country? Maybe I’ll buy a ticket to Mexico, start up a resort, partner with the neighboring drug dealers until a buy goes bad, then have to shoot my way out of that hell hole with M-16 machine guns stolen off of dead body guards while the hotel burns to the ground around me. Of course, I’ve been trained especially for these types of situations, so I’d get out of there unscathed, and I’d probably rescue the girl, too, assuming there is a girl…and that she’s worth rescuing, and not in league with those drug lords. Her name would probably be Rosa. After the escape Rosa and I would embark on a life of crime, the Bonnie and Clyde of Central America, I’d shoot up the banks, she’d drive the getaway car. When things heat up in Bolivia we’ll head either to Australia or maybe Nevada to cool off. Maybe Vegas, we could break the bank with our stolen money, and live large and in charge at some casino in the penthouse suite.

I think I’m liking this option. Where do I sign up

-t


recommended downloads:
The Old 97’s, Melt Show
and
Matt Nathanson, Wings