Peninsulation

Just in the last two hours, I have witnessed a guy drive a fucking full size garbage truck to his car in the parking lot to get his lunch or something. It caused me to be late to lunch and then he almost hit me. It was n'awesome.

I also just saw a dude washing his hair in the bathroom sink and a guy brushing his teeth in the break room. This all happened at work and I give up. You win, oh invisible mocking entity that preys upon me for some type of enjoyment or schadenfreude. I'll update my resume and start making an escape plan.

They (the collective they) say that above all else, enjoy what you do. I do. It's the where I do it that I kind of have a problem with. Making out with Scarlet Johanwhatever would be totally cool, but on a movie theater floor? I don't think so. Unless it was with two Scarlett Johanwhatevers. Then, it would totally be worth it. So what if you get gum in your hair. Get some ice and a hammer and that will come right out. Also, if it was the first date, I wouldn't recommend any type of penetration. Just straight making out can be super awesome if you try real hard. It's a forgotten art.

I thoroughly enjoy what I do. It's like doing Sudokus and crossword puzzles all days on good days. You get to please others and impress others by solving intricate problems wrapped in puzzles and smothered by enigmas. There are Eureka! moments. There is overcoming adversity. It really is quite brilliant in those glimpses of stimulating work environments with bright individuals.

On other days, it feels like being the coordinator for a juvenile hall field trip to the knife museum. Okay, fuck it, I'll say it. It's like being the grand marshall of a Special Olympics parade. And all that good karma just washes away down the sewer drain that is my soul. Seriously, though, it's like the Land of Misfit Toys and I'll never figure out if I'm meant to break out or if I'm a fucking Misfit Toy and it's my fate to exist here with a John-In-The-Box, a small wheel, and a Tackle Me Elmo.

No man is an island (of Misfit Toys), but they can definitely sneak by as a Peninsula without even trying in the right environment. Fuggit! It pays the bills for this illustrious life that I lead in the meantime. I really shouldn't care that my surroundings resemble the audience of a taping of The Price is Right and smell like old dust in a Salvation Army sometimes. Regardless, I'm blaming it for all of my problems right now and need to do something to eliminate it as a suspect of cause of malcontent.