I, having just returned to the place that I sleep after a day of work, have concluded that work is not the proper title for a job. A job is something you do to pay the bills, you probably do not like it, if you do then it is an occupation. So my new name for a job is a preview... a preview of an after-life set aside for those that do horrendous things, where you do not feel pain or fire, but are instead doomed to feel nothing but monotony and go on forever without the hope of moving on, with others put there with the sole intent of making you feel worthless.
Maybe I just need to figure out what I want to do with my life...
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A Tattered Leather Bound Journal With a Bear Claw Symbol on The Front Cover
As you read through this ancient tome, you realize that it is nothing more than the ravings of a lunatic. The author writes of these weird concepts of work, school, and life. Obviously he was deranged, what society would make this horrid little mind?
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Granite_Grizz
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