I Hate My Job

October 23, 2014 5:23 PM

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I Hate My Job

Every morning, my thoughts were as dark as my coffee. I would put on a black suit picked from a closet full of monochromatic suits, stare at the key while locking the door, wistful for the moment when I could unlock it again. I'd light a cigarette on my way to the subway, hoping the nicotine will make my existence a little more bearable.

If we were in a movie, you would hear Pergolesi's Stabat Mater Dolorosa while I trudged to work.

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