Indiana Joanna (khakipants) wrote,
Indiana Joanna

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Another day at the desk that is not my own.

It's really rather dull back here. For a change.

I just noticed that there is a ceiling tile missing from . . . well, from the ceiling. Obviously. I know it was there before I went to lunch. So sometime in the space of my lunch break, a ceiling tile disappeared. Strange.

Although not at all interesting to you, I know. I told you my job was boring.

I seriously suspect that at some moment very soon, my mind is going to start oozing out of my ears. Life in a cubicle is like an experiment in sensory-deprivation. Or solitary confinement. Or something else entirely, that also turns out to be unpleasant. I can hear the voices of the other employees. Constantly. But it's just a nonsensical stream of noises without apparent meaning. And I can't see anyone. And the people that talk to me on the telephone are only doing so until they are able to get in touch with someone that is actually able to help them. Half of the terms they use are unfamiliar to me, so I have to pick out the few words that I do understand in an attempt to direct them to the right place.

OK, I figured out what it's like. It's like being shut in a windowless box by a bunch of aliens who know maybe ten words of english, and being expected to answer their extremely specific questions about . . . Beijing . . . based on your experiences with the Chinese restaraunt down the street.

I wonder if that makes any sense, or if it's just an initial symptom of my brain turning to liquid.

Sorry about that, anyway. My life is not crap, my job is not godawful, I do know what I'm doing most of the time, and I'm not suffering nearly as much as I claim to be. I'm just bored. Life goes on.

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