Delusion

On vacation, the day had many hours.  Back to work and there seem only a couple.  The time spent at work is not measured in hours.  The hours are what is left over afterwards.  And there is so much required after that.  No, there are only one or two hours in a working day.  As always, as we all do, I had so many good ideas about what I would do when I got home.  They were all life-enhancing ideas.  But now there is work.  There will be no life-enhancement.  The factory clock was made to kill you.  It is a form of population control.  Only the very rich and the very Bohemian have life-enhancing hours.  I am too stupid to be one and too scared to be the other.  I try to cheat the factory clock, but that has its own life-supressing dangers.  Worry.  I have a mid-year review coming up next week, and all I can think is that I will be called on the carpet once again for my behavior.  I try.  Yesterday I announced that home from vacation it was back to the oppressive five hour workday.  That didn't get the reception I'd hoped for.  But truly, five hours, four times a week is all a man or woman should be required to give anyone.  Maximum.  Why isn't the Tea Party fighting for the twenty-hour workweek?  I'll tell you why.  They are all on disability pay and welfare.  It's true.  Check it out.  Either that or they are being paid by the Koch Brothers.  And the One Percent Movement?  Oh, they don't work, either.  They live in tents and take charity.  And there you have it in a nutshell.  The Revolution.

I drank moderately again last night.  You would think that after two nights of that, I'd be skinny as a snake.  Nope.  I'm not sure this is going to work.  How long does one need to stay on such a lunatic regimen?  I'll give it another day or two and see how it goes.  But seriously. . . .

I must rush.  The factory whistle has already blown.  Where in the hell does the time go?  I delude myself when I think that there will ever be anything for me but work.