Working in a corporate environment is the pits. Literally, figuratively, any way you want to look at it, it’s the pits. But, it pays the bills. Yes, the bills. Those dreary little pieces of mail that make you long for childhood where everything that came in the mail for you was received in pink envelopes, adorned with shiny glitter, and well wishes. Or at the very least, make you wish that paper cuts could really slit your wrists and end it all.
You are reminded of this death wish every morning when you alarm rings at 7am sharp. It is dark outside, and if a resident of the Midwest, usually quite cold. The wind outside beating against the window beckons you… “come out, come out wherever you are! I’m waiting!!!”
You shuffle to the coffee maker first, slap the button, and stumble to the shower to wash away the crust from your eyes, and if like me, the side of your mouth where you drooled on your pillow most of the night.
If you have been bestowed with cherubic sleeping children, the instant their eyes open, all hell breaks loose as you suddenly become aware of the clock mocking you. Hurriedly, lunches are packed, teeth are brushed, breakfast is made, and you are rushing around naked hoping against hope that the Mexican house builders behind you are too engrossed with their music and hammering to peer into your windows, which have had the shades open since you moved into your house in 1985.