Thursday, May 24, 2012

all I wanted was a day off

Sometimes I try to do things
And it just doesn't work out the way I want it to
And I get real frustrated, and like I try hard to do it,
And I take my time, but it just doesn't work out the way I want it to
It's like I concentrate on it real hard
But it just doesn't work out
And everything I do and everything I try
It never turns out, it's like, I need time to figure these things out

 and it was stupid of me to forget about three-day-barbecue holiday weekends, because I want to get down to Akron for that Finster art exhibit and maybe hit up the wax museum of the local televangelist and some weird flea markets and that fabulous burrito place in Kent, but everyone and their mom wants the day off too, and despite clearing it with the usual parties, others still deservedly enveloped in a golden glow of newfound domestic bliss have inadvertently left me possibly stuck covering the office where the phone will probably not even ring instead of documenting the absurdity south of the borders of Clevelandia.

Maybe it'll all work out, but right now it's not, and, well, it gets old to be doing the right thing and always feel like I'm getting shortchanged and stiffed, hitting the glass ceiling, being told I should be thankful for the pittance thrown my way.

First world problems, rust world problems, whatever. It gets frustrating to feel so stuck. I shouldn't complain, especially since I've got the best fellow peons one could ask for and work that is consistently meaningful and interesting, but the dynamics above all that, the absurdity of middle management and the stupidity of my city and country, it really starts to get me down.


  1. Grasshopper, do not worry,
    your weekend shall begin early
    & by Cthulhu's slimy grace
    yours will be the most successful fireplace.

  2. but you are living the chic life now...

  3. Randal,
    As I see the dawn of liberation creeping ever-closer, I will take photos of sundry absurdity outside the Callalooga county line.

    I felt like Edward Said when I read that one. I feel like people come here from elsewhere the way that rich kids from Europe slummed in Cairo and Istanbul in the 19th century, sampling the quaintness and exoticism of the decaying surroundings but not actually having to deal with its problems. Yikes, maybe I really am getting trapped in the ivory tower.