Saturday, May 10, 2008

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Work Bullshit vs Real Life

So what is the story with artists? How about fat people? Are we all nuts? In France, they say, "Dumb as an artist." Actually, artists can be anyway, anybody. So can fat people. I just happen to be mildly misfitted, as I suppose, are many. Perhaps I have hidden secrets years of psychotherapy did not "cure". Does psychotherapy cure anything? Or just make people feel okay about their inadequacies? I don't feel okay about mine when I wake up wanting to stay sleeping for another day or two. I have been told that is why alarm clocks exist. Who would want an alarm clock once he or she didn't have to hit the trail that day? I continue to feel as though I beat the system, although I really did retire from my (three day a week, draw at my desk) job, the normal way. I'm still sticking my tongue out laughing, "Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah!" To whom? Who cares? Who thinks about me or wishes I was there to suffer the avalanche of paper I left? I did. I couldn't help it. I couldn't concentrate. I still can hardly count, or make sensible lists. At work, I felt guilty, and wanted to get out before someone "caught" me. I never didn't do anything that would hurt anybody, but the useless paperwork wasn't getting done. It's hard to feel guilty when I know I was one of many who weren't filling out reams of paper, and the others had no excuse. I had Lupus. What a job! Truly the Great Spirit smiled on me when I transferred into there. From the time I started working in Civil Service--I won't say where--I worked for almost all crazy people. Mostly certifiable, which I should have some idea about, having a degree in Therapeutic REcreation at which I worked in a Psych hospital. It's possible I wouldn't know, but I do. First I worked with clients and when I got onto the business end of the stick, my job got better and better. I couldn't appreciate it, mostly because I hated the people, but it was good. If I'm paranoid, it has nothing to do with anyone else. My working life +could have stayed terrible, but I was given the gift of improvement. Silly, but good. I was always rebellious and anti-authority. I was tortured by my mom for it, but at the same time, I learned my lessons at home. I totally can't stand bullshit either, and business is mostly lying and bullshit. Cheating legally. I can't be serious about most things. Titles. Authority. Rules for rules sake. And breaking the rules because no one is looking. Not me. Some rules are for safety and they're not the ones to break.
My rant is done. My Autumn has fallen asleep on my desk in front of me. Time for more reading of The Glory and the Dream by Manchester. I just got A Voyage Long and Strange which is supposed to be good too. I also have Sarah Vowel. From where I sit with Autumn, at least two of those people are great historians, if anybody is listening.
Good night and God bless you.




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