The weekend is just on the horizon – really!

blog, nanowrimo, Work

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Do any of you feel like all that you ever do is work? That all of your time is sucked into a never ending working week; the weekend never seems to arrive, and the nights fly past in the blink of an eye? You’re too tired to dream at night, which in return gives you the feeling of sleeplessness. When you do dream, it’s just…weird. Weariness is your companion.

I’ll bet that a lot of you are lucky enough to have varied jobs. Perhaps you work in a school where something new happens every day! You’re doing something you love, you’re inspiring young people, you’re doing good. Maybe you work in the media. That seems like it would be a rather enjoyable job. You radio presenters all sound like you’re having a whale of a time in your little D.J. booths, laughing away with the latest celeb that you’re interviewing. Not that I’m bitter or anything.

You are lucky.

Some of you will be just like me. We work in a factory, the lowest of jobs. In despatch. The most monotonous of work. Picking. Packing. Labelling. Repeat. What good are we doing? You’re colleagues are real bundles of joy, complaining about every little thing with their double standards.

Who’s in charge of health and safety around here? Can’t they get us a bloody ladder that doesn’t f•••ing feel like it’s gonna break on me??

Oh, so now we have to wear high vis’? And hard hats? I don’t want to wear those!

And their wonderful break time conversations. Perhaps, like me, you sit alone at lunch. You don’t fit in with that lot; they don’t like you and you don’t like their conversations. About women. About how women are incompetent. About how women’s feelings are irrelevant. How women are good for nothing – except for a good f–! Oh.

Maybe you want to have a real conversation, an intelligent conversation -one that doesn’t involve porn, sex or drugs. Perhaps you want to have your beliefs challenged, you want to learn something new, you want to expand your mind. But you can’t.

You live for the evenings – the short, short evenings; you live for the always distant weekends. But they never come for long.

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