i am an engineer.
...did you know that?
i go to work, every day, over an hour away, to engineer tiny things.
today i worked late, as i usually do, because i can't seem to do anything worthwhile until 4:30pm, give or take roughly 30 minutes. i can't for the life of me figure out what i am doing wrong. why can i only work under pressure? why is it so impossible for me to sit down at eight and start my work day? instead its internet, trips to the bathroom (simply to walk up and down the hall), more internet.
the worst is when i make my fifth trip to the bathroom, only to discover upon entering there is already a woman in the first stall. instead of turning around and leaving, i become paranoid that she can see and recognize me through the crack between the door and the wall, and will find my behavior suspicious. so i proceed to enter the stall, only to discover she is having technical difficulties and is taking quite a long time, most likely waiting politely for me to leave. sadly i've peed already - a number of times - and there's absolutely nothing left for me to give. but i can't just sit here! should i spit in the toilet? no, it's too viscous - it will never make the proper sound. then it hits me - pretend to change a tampon. brilliant.
i unzip my pants and push them down. then i noisily wad up a great deal of toilet paper, shuffle my feet. i open the metal basket on the wall in my stall, rustle the paper bag in it slightly (to hint at disposal). i then flush, take a moment to re-dress and adjust myself, then open the stall and proceed to thoroughly wash my hands before making my escape.
i engineer tiny things, but i can't figure out my sad little life.
...did you know that?
i go to work, every day, over an hour away, to engineer tiny things.
today i worked late, as i usually do, because i can't seem to do anything worthwhile until 4:30pm, give or take roughly 30 minutes. i can't for the life of me figure out what i am doing wrong. why can i only work under pressure? why is it so impossible for me to sit down at eight and start my work day? instead its internet, trips to the bathroom (simply to walk up and down the hall), more internet.
the worst is when i make my fifth trip to the bathroom, only to discover upon entering there is already a woman in the first stall. instead of turning around and leaving, i become paranoid that she can see and recognize me through the crack between the door and the wall, and will find my behavior suspicious. so i proceed to enter the stall, only to discover she is having technical difficulties and is taking quite a long time, most likely waiting politely for me to leave. sadly i've peed already - a number of times - and there's absolutely nothing left for me to give. but i can't just sit here! should i spit in the toilet? no, it's too viscous - it will never make the proper sound. then it hits me - pretend to change a tampon. brilliant.
i unzip my pants and push them down. then i noisily wad up a great deal of toilet paper, shuffle my feet. i open the metal basket on the wall in my stall, rustle the paper bag in it slightly (to hint at disposal). i then flush, take a moment to re-dress and adjust myself, then open the stall and proceed to thoroughly wash my hands before making my escape.
i engineer tiny things, but i can't figure out my sad little life.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
jebustheimpaler:
isn't this modern life fantastic?
aaronidiot:
Blackalicious and pot were wonderful. Along with many other great parts to my weekend. How was yours?