Road Dog Ace gives her report from the corporate cubicle.
Your blogmaster said I could use this space to guest-rant. I have tentative road dog status as of right now. I'm at a crossroads.
Things I hate about my corporate job:
-My cube. It's exceptionally salmon-colored. I have a puppy calendar up that my coworker gave me. The puppies are alternately wearing hairbows, pearls, and neckties. I also have a sign that says "Check your reserves and document!" This was company mandated. I'm mad that I know what this means and it matters to me.
-My boss. He looks like the Warden from Shawshank, so much so that we've taken to calling him that full time. My coworker (one of the few who is genuinely human) called him that to his face when hungover one morning a few weeks back. It wasn't received well. Just today, the Warden made fun of me for 15 minutes because I wrote "her" when I meant "here" in an e-mail. 15 minutes. Of my life. My precious, beautiful life.
-The fluorescent light which is competing with my stress level over which will give me cancer first.
-My claimants, my insureds (repugnant, all of you!), my claim files, my zombie coworkers who swear that they used to have dreams too but then claims is so stable and layoff-proof and they have families and mortgages and then you get realistic and comfortable and life gets in the way, etc.
But there are life-affirming things too. I'm going home to see my sister run a half-marathon. She hates her corporate job too. Some cacti were blooming last week. I've gotten 3 sizeable paychecks for things I wrote this year and I won't even apologize by telling you what I wrote or for whom. I know I won't be eaten up here and I won't have a mortgage or children for a long while if ever. My dream has not withered and died. It's still a raisin in a dry, room-temperature cabinet, I think. I'm really tired though. This work hurts my head and my pride. Office Space is a superior film, yes, but it's not funny any more. Not at all. It's just true.
So back to the topic of this blog: Independent book stores are glorious. How could anything "independent" not be? Let's not just visit them, let's buy one! Let's really really commit to never making any money but doing it with integrity. Maybe you guys have already committed to that.
If so, damn your integrity. I hope a little rubs off on me.
Question: Stay at horrendous cubicle job with evil "Warden" boss or quit and come on part of the Book trek and be irresponsible as is, I believe, my birthright?
--Ace in AZ
About the author: Despite her corporate day job, Ace is a top-notch writer of literary fiction. She is also one hell of a poker player. I think I financed half of her MFA with the money I lost to her.