The office, as many would consider (well okay, that’s at least what I consider) is a big room full of computers with many, many people thinking about work — except me.
That would be my office right now. Well at least not anymore. It’s my final day of treating this big room of computers and people as my daily Internet Cafe or Computer Shop that I can do whatever I want with limited internet access from pornographic material and some other stupid sites.
The office is not an internet shop. You have to have some input in this thing called work. And with that input, the big bosses above the food chain are expecting some decent output.
Let’s just say I messed up the input and the output that the HR wanted was a bit fucked up. I’m thinking of a four-letter word.
E-X-A-M.
Yep, that stupid exam got me for the last time and it had to be final. No more excuses. No more boohoos for me.
So. What now? No work, no money. No money, no activity.
Uhm, please stop piling up bills. My sister can’t handle it that much. She’s stressed and all, so I guess you could just fucking stop from coming and go somewhere else, like Mordor or beyond that Transmutation gate or something.
Anyway, I have to stop treating the next office as a big computer shop for me to balance my YinYangs of internet hobbies.
It’s not Netopia or my place of Zen at home. It’s a workplace, and it’s just natural that they’d prohibit what I like to do most.
Sheesh, corporate slavery. What a drag.
I’m free of it for now. God-knows when shall I be back.
I hope it’s from a company that provides “real salary” and not some allowance from where I came from.
Bum. This is so not fun and full of faggotry as of this moment.
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