run amok

fuck it

No-one wants to wake up one morning and realise they're one of those people. You know, the ones you hate. Bitter, stressed, annoying. But eventually you do, whether you want to or not. You may realise when you're visualising telling your boss to go fuck himself over and over, at work at 3am on a tuesday morning having just gotten an email expressing disappointment in you for having not responded in the expected manner to an email. You may realise it when you find yourself standing in the middle of your bedroom on a Sunday afternoon twisting your hair with one hand & chewing your nails on the other after spending 2 hours doing someone elses job while the most frustrating alarm in the world boomed out over the PA system, marking your fourth consecutive weekend at work. You may realise it when your best friend comes to visit and you leave him in an office playing xbox for 5 hours because the cabling guy you hired to move the ISDN connection fucked it and you can't leave until it's fixed. You may realise it checking your bank balance, doing the sums on how many people with less work to do, less qualifications, and less responsibility are earning more than you while your struggle for favour, recognition & fair after hours pay for life-raping overtime with no success. But it doesn't matter. Not one bit. None of it matters.

What's important is that you realise it. Like GI Joe said, knowing is half the battle. When you're dead, no-one regrets not spending more time at work. And the simple answer is, it's not worth it. Not one bit. That's the Tome Of Wisdom, the Golden Ticket. Our Kama Sutra.

"Fuck it."

The greatest of mankind's knowledge and experience, condensed into a sentence fragment. How ironic - my closing paragraph, interrupted by an SMS, a temperature sensor's urgent proclamation that it is, in fact, alive and registering a whopping 0.5 degrees above alarm threshold. Not to worry dear environmental monitor, the greatest cause for alarm is hardly the caloric in the air you breathe - your concern should be directed towards the fact that I absolutely, positively, definitely, omnidirectionally do not give a flying fuck what you have to say. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. Because nothing is worth becoming that person you hate.

Not one bit.