Never again will I be bored. Waiting for Godot is anatomically unfeasible and puts my mind in ruins. I feel all the juicy bits oozing out the left side until there is nothing left for me to do at night, my time of freedom but pretend to be a zombie in front of re-runs of Law and Order. I know I should be grateful to be paid for doing nothing but hey it takes a toll on my soul to waste life essence. Each and every second is precious and I have to pretend to be doing something on the computer. Out of sheer desperation this word dribble is happening. I have a half hour to kill before the freedom of lunch. A writer I am not, but hey anything can happen under duress. There was a great song a long time ago when social action was not a phrase that caused one to be fired, about shooting those that keep us entrapped in boredom under the illusion they are doing us a favour. People need to have a soul and feel that their time and efforts are in some way meaningful, leave a mark after they are gone. No good for industry, could ignite a revolution if our soul was in intact. Only machines can function in boredom, not humans. But to earn a living we have all conspired to pretend that we are humans and not machines. After all making money allows buying things and having a two-week vacation every year. Wow, I’ve just killed fifteen minutes. I will check my email; Lynne sent an interesting tidbit about margarine being 7% away from being a plastic. This is what the Heart & Stroke Foundation pays millions to advertise as a cure for heart disease, which is the number one killer of women in Canada as it turns out. Probably because they all dutifully switched from butter to margarine. Same nice look and texture. Just like robots almost human-look-alikes, and no soul to contend with. Hurrah for Capitalism! Hey I just figured out I can kill the next five minutes in the loo. Be back dear rant right after lunch probably in a better mood.
Lunch came and went. Sat chatting with a lovely young man from Japan who works as a Barista in T.A.N. Coffee Shop across from my work. Looks too self-confident to just be earning minimum wage, probably here from Japan to learn the ropes and open up a cafe there. Bull’s-eye! When I asked him about his plans they were just that, to open up a café close to Tokyo in Japan. Even though I brought some crossword puzzles to work on, I much rather spend time chatting. And, chat we did, about him, Japan, Buddhism, apparently still the number one religion in Japan. But most people he said are not religious at all. I just got an email saying I did not get the job of working with forensic clients. I guess the murderous hoards won’t have the benefit of my charming company. Still, the future looms uncertainly. Damn money! Without it there is no life in our world as witnessed by the homeless faces with their dead, blank expressions, devoid of all hope and humanity, walking around the grounds where I work. Another three and a half hours to kill. Then freedom for three days. It takes a half day to become myself again and renew my acquaintance with the part of me that still lives, breathes and paints.
Where is Godot when you need him?
I sent this off to friend just to see her reaction and here is what she responded with:
Why don't you become a blogger? Check out blog sites. It is easy to do and you can rant on them every day. I bet you would get a big following. Since I have NO NEED of a following I am attaching her experience with boredom:
Over the years I had the same boredom in my job and resented the government renting my brain from 9 - 5. Often I had nothing to do and my boss would say "a soldier in waiting is just as important as a soldier on the front lines". Was he nuts??? I was not in the flippin' army. The other secretary would bring in sex novels and come to work about half an hour early. She would zerox twenty pages or so and then pretend she was working by reading and highlighting all the juicy bits. Then she would pick up the phone and call her boyfriend and read the parts about what she was going to do to him when she got home. Another man ran a sporting goods store from the office and I became proficient at what was in the Yellow pages.
My job is just not as interesting as hers, or maybe my imagination is simply too dull to start a porno site that would double my income. But then I would have the titillation of getting caught at any time. Suspense battles boredom.
Of course there is ethics and morality to contend with, right livelihood.
Where is Godot?
Lunch came and went. Sat chatting with a lovely young man from Japan who works as a Barista in T.A.N. Coffee Shop across from my work. Looks too self-confident to just be earning minimum wage, probably here from Japan to learn the ropes and open up a cafe there. Bull’s-eye! When I asked him about his plans they were just that, to open up a café close to Tokyo in Japan. Even though I brought some crossword puzzles to work on, I much rather spend time chatting. And, chat we did, about him, Japan, Buddhism, apparently still the number one religion in Japan. But most people he said are not religious at all. I just got an email saying I did not get the job of working with forensic clients. I guess the murderous hoards won’t have the benefit of my charming company. Still, the future looms uncertainly. Damn money! Without it there is no life in our world as witnessed by the homeless faces with their dead, blank expressions, devoid of all hope and humanity, walking around the grounds where I work. Another three and a half hours to kill. Then freedom for three days. It takes a half day to become myself again and renew my acquaintance with the part of me that still lives, breathes and paints.
Where is Godot when you need him?
I sent this off to friend just to see her reaction and here is what she responded with:
Why don't you become a blogger? Check out blog sites. It is easy to do and you can rant on them every day. I bet you would get a big following. Since I have NO NEED of a following I am attaching her experience with boredom:
Over the years I had the same boredom in my job and resented the government renting my brain from 9 - 5. Often I had nothing to do and my boss would say "a soldier in waiting is just as important as a soldier on the front lines". Was he nuts??? I was not in the flippin' army. The other secretary would bring in sex novels and come to work about half an hour early. She would zerox twenty pages or so and then pretend she was working by reading and highlighting all the juicy bits. Then she would pick up the phone and call her boyfriend and read the parts about what she was going to do to him when she got home. Another man ran a sporting goods store from the office and I became proficient at what was in the Yellow pages.
My job is just not as interesting as hers, or maybe my imagination is simply too dull to start a porno site that would double my income. But then I would have the titillation of getting caught at any time. Suspense battles boredom.
Of course there is ethics and morality to contend with, right livelihood.
Where is Godot?
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