First of all, today is the last working Friday of the year. Yes, yes, you can go "Thank God It's Friday" as if God gives a damn about Friday. But on the brighter side, it feels like a Friday. I mean, I'm done for the night and can leave for home which obviously I won't as the very reason for going home is not there anymore – work.
For the record, I'm doing absolutely nothing right now. I mean, other than tweeting my usual crap. Office feels like home, so to lie. And you know you are in trouble when you have such inappropriate feeling towards your workplace. Home is no good either if you switch off the PC but then that's another story. Honestly speaking, this is how an office should be. At least on working days. That's not very much to ask for, I guess.
When you're chasing deadlines like they were skirts, good ole memories have a tendency to tease you. You reminisce your childhood days, school and all those carefreeness that you took for granted. I'm not sure about you but I do think of aforementioned stuff before turning clinically depressed. It can get overwhelmingly nostalgic with work on one hand and work on another hand and mind stuck in the middle. It's a point where it's difficult to say whether you are suffering work or vice versa.
Actually my office is gifted with true professionals. Unfortunately, these hardworking folks are not endangered YET. And needless to say, they make my life tougher than it should be. You can't blame them. Nor kill them. You've got to adjust and convince that each one of us is here for the greenbacks. There is enough space for everyone, be it promotion, jealousy or indolence. After all, some of my colleagues do help me with my job and become "my bestest friend ever" for that particular day.
I just work long hours but I don't put my heart and soul into it. I can't be that cruel to myself. To me, like most of you, work is a dirty word. Work loves me but I don't reciprocate. Still, the bitch never gives up. I don't know what I want but I know what I don't want. I don't want to work. Work continues to be challenged by my weak approach towards strong procrastination. In granular words, I'd rather be bored to death than worked to death.
By the way, if you think I'm ranting, you better put yourself in my chair and don't get up until you are done with all my work. Thank you.
Hmm. That's enough ranting for a Friday.
Speaking of Friday again, if there was a vote for the day with most goodwill, my vote will definitely go for Friday instead of Sunday. Honestly, how many of us actually "live" Sunday. Friday is the perfect balance between slavery, hope and then freedom. This is the day when you work thinking of weekend. This can also be the day when you feel everything is getting better and someone reminds you of pending work. However, Friday is worth the weekdays' pain. Seriously.
Like I always say, Friday is a true working class hero.