by D. M. Larson
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I am sick of living in a cube! Why do I come here day after day? I don’t even see the point to what I’m doing. I spend each day getting pushed around by all of you. And all of you are getting pushed around by someone else. Do we even know why? Do we even care?
As long as we get our paychecks, and as long as we get our vacation days, and our sick days, that’s all that really matters. Oh, and our retirement, which may not be there when we get old, and our medical insurance we can’t even use, because we can afford the bills it won’t pay.
This is insane. Being here is an act of insanity. Day after day, doomed to repeat ourselves. Do we ever move forward? Do we ever make any progress? Does anyone really care what we do here? I know I don’t.
I don’t care anymore. I’m done. I’m tired of putting my life on hold hoping for something they may never happen. And who knows if I can enjoy life later anyway? What if I’m sick? What if get hurt? And I would look back at this time in my life and see this. This emptiness. This dead end. This abyss. So I’m giving my two weeks notice!
END OF MONOLOGUE