"It's a shame that the only thing a man can do for eight hours a day is work. He can't eat for eight hours; he can't drink for eight hours; he can't make love for eight hours. The only thing a man can do for eight hours is work."
William Faulkner
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| Consolation? |
What is one of the worst dreams on a Sunday night / Monday morning? !Ping. Being at work! I usually love Charles Lamb's essays, but I love him more when he said that he was always late for work, but that he would make up for it by leaving early. I would not elaborate but somehow I was gladdened, this morning, by the fact that I did get a few hours to read papers and do things like that before getting ready for work. But boy, it was terrible even before I got up, I had already been to my oh-fiss.
Well, I'm not indifferent to my work. I like it, in fact. Perhaps because doing nothing is the hardest work, never knowing when I'm finished. The convention that we have to give our asses eight hours a day, six days a week, however, makes me quite apathetic towards this whole business of work and workplace. Karl Marx and those guys did a commendable job in reducing the working hours, even if America hates his followers like I hate Monday mornings. But what I really want is to further decrease the working hour to, say, four hours; that way, I will start loving my work, I will give my 200% from the usual 100% (I can show you the spreadsheet, though I take a dozen fag breaks a day), I will never complain about my managers in my 'entire' life, and the list will go on.
On a much lighter note, the weather is getting pleasant with
each passing day, as autumn draw the curtain over the intolerable summer heat.
The humidity is still here like a shameless cat, but when September ends, the
air is going to be a lot nicer and conducive. And maybe, it will also make me less
lethargic getting up in the morning, makes me ready getting a bath, and makes
retiring on work days so comfortable with occasional drinks and movies. I hope so.
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