Working stinks. Fucking stinks. 


That’s all I got. 


This is the life of a creative with a day job. 





You ever wish on your drive to work that there was a cliff near you to drive off of but since there isn’t you play “Somethings In The Way” by Nirvana or “Regrets” by Jay-Z on repeat the whole commute to work. 





So you’re at work with the “Fuck this shit” face or my favorite “Don’t talk to me” face and your manager comes over and has a meaningless chat with you that in their mind thinks it will change how you feel about being in the building. They’ll talk to you about dedication and how the company matters and imply that nothing matters in life but the company. Not even breathing. The company matters more than breathing. If you drop dead please don’t forget to call in if you’re going to be late for your shift. They try to ask you what’s wrong and why your performance is lacking. Ummm this job a whole ass hoe that’s why. Not the fun throwing that ass back kinda hoe either. This job the weak ass bitch kinda hoe. 


Nothing is wrong with me bruh. Nothing is wrong with my personal life outside of this job. Actually my life just happens to improve every time I leave this mothafucka. See the trend here? I’m come in, sad face. I leave, happy face. The issue is the job itself. I think deep down managers and supervisors know that shit but try to play dumb. Nigga you know I wanna see a tornado hit this place. Nothing will ever change how you feel about the job. When you clock in your spirit floats away and sits sadly awaiting you to come back so you can go do what you want to do and that’s work towards your true purpose. You only have a job to keep the lights on. 





I don’t know if this question is a trap to set me up on a lunch date with my co-workers but I always say "I don’t know." What I’m really having for lunch is my headphones with a side of I’m getting the fuck away from this place for the next hour to question my life’s decisions and to give myself my “You really that nigga and the most creative nigga God has blessed this floating rock with” pep talk. This job doesn’t deserve your wavy prominence.” Also I go over my notes for projects I’m working on and talk to myself/brainstorm out loud like Rainman in my car. 





You become a drunk because of weak ass jobs. How many happy hours in the world are popping because of jobs. 





Why in the fuck are you calling my phone on my day off you fucking jabroni? What in the fuck makes you think that on my day off I am willing to put up with your bullshit. This is my day of chi. Meaning I’m gonna create some shit, ask for midday nudes if that fails then watch xvideos, watch hulu or Netflix, and eat strawberry shortcakes in my bed. I’m not picking up no fucking shift. You gotta be a special kinda asshole to even ask me this shit. Yeah let me get out of these cozy Adidas track pants and put on my uncomfortable slave clothes and drive to go be sad for a few hours. To managers who do this shit, all of you collectively suck a fucking dick. 





I don’t know if anyone else does this but when I’m at work and every hour I see past I swear I cry because that’s an hour that could’ve been put towards some shit that helps society. I’m not helping society by being at work. I help society by discussing important issues like creative adventures, titties, and Hey Arnold. The pain I have of knowing I have to be at a place for 8 whole hours and none of those hours go to creating anything really breaks my heart. I literally start shaking like a overreacting nigga on twitter. 7 to 8 hours long as fuck. That’s a whole day. So how many hours do you really have for your passion after that? The shit take a toll on you. You clock out of work then go straight home and start to work on your passion. You really end up not having time for yourself at all. Bruh we really selling our time for a living. Like damn my time really only worth $16.00 a hour. Like forreal? 





You just making other people who wouldn’t even show up for your funeral rich. No matter how hard you work. How dedicated you are you not shit to them people. They never keeping track of the good you do. They’re only keeping track of the bad. They always underpay and low ball you because you do not matter. 





You know what’s hilarious? When you not even doing anything special at work and you’re basically just there physically but mentally you’re checked out and your manager approaches you to give you some empty compliments. They know that you don’t give a fuck about this hellhole and try to execute some goofy shit like “empty compliments” that their regional and district manager instructed them to. They think weirdo shit like that will improve employees morale. No, it does the opposite because the companies actions does not match the compliments. If you ever hear conversations between higher ups in huge companies they talk about you like you’re not even human. They dehumanize you but try to use fancy words to try and make it seem that they’re not trying to dehumanize you and put company policies ahead of your well being. Get the fuck outta my face with these extra compliments and let me hate you and loathe this place in peace. Your compliments about me doing a great job does not mean shit to me. You wanna compliment me? Compliment me by sending me home early to go home and create something you jerk. 





You ever be at work and think to yourself “Being homeless not so bad.” Actually with how winter in St.Louis started that’s the worse thing to think but you always ask yourself “Is it worth it?” I'm tired of going to work and feeling like I wanna beat everybody ass in that hoe. It ain't healthy.

It feels like you lose apart of what makes you special every time. What makes you unique isn’t valued in the scheme of things that your employer considers important. Your happiness is sacrificed to make people happy who you’ve never even met and don’t even give a fuck about you. You making everyone else happy but what about you? 





I have my plan in place already. I pray you do also. This is temporary. It’s up to us if it’s forever or not. I may struggle during this plan but it’s something I’m willing to sign up for if it means on the other side I’m able to do what the fuck I want for a living. What is your Oceans 8 or 11? What is your creative heist that you’re going to pull off that will change your life forever? Write the blueprint in your mind while you’re ignoring your co-workers, go home write it down, and then execute it.