Work - ing

So. This morning I woke up expecting a big bang. I expected to see a hail of sparks shower down upon the landscape as I emerged from the house this morning, coffee in one hand, cigarette in the other. It may have been an awkward trumpet blast from a neighbor's kid that would've sealed the deal for me, but there was nothing. Just a few birds who brazenly decided to fly north (a little prematurely if you asked me) chirping about in the trees sans leaves. Did I also mention the temperature had dropped twenty degrees overnight, just to solidify the dull effect of my morning of mornings...the morning that will shift the entire course of my existence (once again)?

Is it too much to ask for an awkward trumpet blast? Maybe an out-of-tune G? Regardless of my mystic hopes, I was not greeted with any great pomp and circumstance. I rolled neatly from under my covers, hit the floor, brewed a coffee, lit a cigarette, and I was off.

Unfortunately, the email was not in my inbox. This email contained the keys to the life-changing kingdom. This email described, in great detail, what was to be expected over the next few hours. If the process hadn't been undermined already by now, I would've probably been shocked, but I had already been let down and after you add on one, or two, or three more failures on top of the first nasties, they tend to lose the kick.

So I was bored. Again - boredom. The lag of emotion and doubt that creeps in as soon as you muster up a whole bunch of steam (most of which you had no idea you actually could muster) and then exhaust it by turning the Wii Sports on and losing to Kawasaki (PRO 1300) and Keisha (PRO 2000) at a swift best-of-three in tennis.

I drink more coffee. This has always worked in the past to bring me up to a normal operating speed with the rest of the world. When I say rest of the world, I really mean the frat alumnus-turned-outside sales cats with the pomeade creating a crease between the top of their hair and the ever-so-slightly faded sides, so this may or may not be applicable to the literal rest of the world...just those overachieving fucks. So - as soon as the will to make a move has passed (this is something I am very familiar with by this point), I inevitably fall into the social media circle of death. I need to communicate socially, dammit! With peers! With other folks! With a world that I'm incapable of touching right now, because I haven't showered or brushed teeth or had enough nicotine and caffeine, so I fulfill my needs with blogs, and posts, and comments, and articles, and witticisms everywhere I turn. Heaven. This is how I became a Rockstar In The Basement. What's your excuse?

So - I finally receive the marching orders. Not as formal as I thought something this earth-shattering for someone like me would be, but effective nonetheless. I begin to make some queries, and get sucked right into it. I don't look up for four more hours, and I have to catch up to my other responsibilities. This is what I'm talking about!

The transition from a sales-based life built on building and maintaining to eventually exploit the hell out of someone's willing relationship with you to sitting in front of my computer thinking high-level thoughts and implementing the results has been a successfull one. Career move complete. Unemployment? Done. Overdue bills? I'll get you in a minute.

I don't know if you necessarily have to have orgasms every time you participate in your work environment (which I guess is what some people really want...I think I was probably chasing some workplace-euphoria for awhile), but you should absolutely be able to get caught up in it and not have to look back.

And that is how I became a Rockstar In The Basement. What's your excuse?