MOBS

The water is overflowing from the pitcher in the sink again and once more I've managed to drift into a daydream state while standing in the kitchenette at work waiting to make yet another pot of shitty coffee. I'm tired and overworked, but what can I do other than pour another cup of weak Folgers into my snowman penguin Christmas mug and sit down at my desk working only to clear my ever-growing task list. I tell myself that this is what I wanted to do with my life, but somewhere deep down I know it's at least a little bit of a lie.

Years ago I dreamed of being a kindergarten teacher, hoping one day to be surrounded by happy children anxious to learn. Years before that I had dreams of being a music teacher, standing before a concert band waving my baton as the sounds of Shostakovich's Festive Overture filled the room. Yet somewhere along the way I decided those dreams weren't worth chasing - for whatever reason, and pursued business instead.

Another shitty cup of coffee, another day filled with phone calls and decisions and ignorant people who can't fucking figure out how in the world to operate a computer. Another day anxiously awaiting for the clock to strike 5:00 pm. Another day of throwing a handful of pills into my mouth desperately hoping that the headache I've had for the past five years will finally disappear.

But I love my job, really, I do.

One time there was a woman - let's call her Mobs. Mobs was a business lady too and eventually Mobs became my boss. Mobs operates under the cover of a friendly woman whose laughter fills the halls. However, Mobs truly is a manipulative micro-manager who secretly crushes dreams. Mobs strives to make you feel like you're never truly good enough, and although she does give praise on occasion she never fails to tell you that you can continue to be better. Mobs stole my passion and crushed my zeal. I'm convinced Mobs fed on my livelihood. I think it's what feeds her laughter.

It's time for another cup of coffee.