I have finally found the perfect simile to describe life. Maybe not life, but life as a working person. I have only been working 40 hour work weeks (49 hours typically) for less than a week now, but I am also forced to take care of a farm of animals I hate, and live in a place I hate, and interact with people I hate, and be in a society I hate, and not be able to write on the internet about all that hate because my job takes up too much of my time to let me spend 20 minutes on the internet ranting. Well, I spend those couple of free hours playing NBA Live instead of producing “creativity.” That’s right, I just called my ability to write the same thing over and over on a blog “creativity.”
As I said, I’ve found the perfect simile to describe this life that I hate so much. I discovered it during lunch break. Lunch break happens between my two chunks of Graduate Theater class. This is the class where I attempt to teach 14 and 15 year olds how to create and perform sketch comedy. I spend the entire show telling stories from my life, acting like the cool teacher with my seat all backwards, and creating charts and maps that make comedy unfunny. In that split where my students go outside and run around with their prepacked sandwiches, carrot sticks and joy, I typically make a lonely trek to the nearly empty vending machine in the cafeteria searching for a non-crumbled dollar in my pocket with which to purchase a replacement lunch since I rushed out the door without time to pack myself something from my kitchen full of condiments.
This camp is run in my old high-school, so these vending machines are not refilled throughout the summer, so I am the only customer of the four placements of strawberry pop-tarts that get staler by the day. Today I decided to switch up my routine a little. Only in that I didn’t get pop-tarts to eat untoasted. Instead I went for the six cream cheese and chive crackers packaged into a neat little rectangle.
That time I spent watching my $0.75 “lunch” get pushed forward to its eventual death by a 124 lb. body eating demolition is how I feel about life. You sort of regret your decision to do it because you think you are paying too much and there might have been a better choice of what to do. Though you do feel a little nostalgic for a time when this would have been exciting and you hope you are wrong and this will be just as exciting as it used to be. Behind all that you sort of hope that something goes wrong and things get stuck because then at least then you’d have some task to accomplish.
Therefore life (especially in the working world) is like the time spent waiting for your purchase of cream-cheese and chive crackers to fall to the bottom of the vending machine. Life doesn’t sound that good.
Also, take my poll (last time I ask).