Today was day one of being employed in New York City.
Not sure what to make of it yet, and I suppose I cant complain.
In a country where the debt is at an all time high, and jobs are at an all time low, I feel pretty lucky.
Beggers can certainly be choosers, but not if they want to get paid.
The job itself is pretty menial, and sadly I was unable to utilize most of my mental faculties.
Like I said...not sure what to make of it yet. But I now know how it feels to be one of those people who stand around with empty faces and feelings of disillusionment.
'Just smile, asshole.'
You know the ones...like, Walmart greeters or airline ticket agents. You know they're not really 'thinking,' but their subconciousness remains vivid and alert. Waiting for something, anything, to happen. A waking life that resembles more of a dream state. During the entirety of the day I can't recall a single tangiable thought of my own. Is that what work is? A way to remove my individuality? The answer should become more clear with time.
When I lived in Florida I worked retail nearly every day for over six months.
During my stint in the massive fluroscent dungeon, it was the little things that made being there worthwhile. Not the money, not the free clothes or discounts...
It was seeing people getting caught stealing. All of us would stick our heads out into the hallways like gophers to catch a glimpse of anything that would make our days more interesting, and pass the time.
I hope that I find my place in the world. My true calling.
But until then, I will continue to plug away and be the good worker ant that I am. That we all are. Providing a service for the betterment of the colony. To make sure that it can function normally, and efficiently.
I don't mean to sound cynical.
Actually, I do. All I can hope, is that whatever I do, means something. Even if just to me.