Monday, May 9, 2011

Sometimes when I am in meetings, I imagine I am a robot programmed not to realise I am a robot ... Other times I imagine I am a small Indian girl collecting water for my village in brightly painted clay pots.-27b/6
 8-5 is wearing me down. Crushing my soul. I should have been born in a different world. One in which work is not the end all and be all. My days are numbered at work. I feel the quit brewing inside.
 Mental health days make a world of difference until then.

No comments:

Post a Comment