My life is an office

There is something perverse about office life. It is necessarily hierarchical and competitive, with bosses, subordinates, promotions and ‘employees of the month’, and yet it is usually conducted under communal auspices, also known as ‘team spirit’. We must work to survive, yet it becomes necessary to maintain the illusion that we approach our tasks passionately and harbor sacred feelings of loyalty for our comrades up, down, and a few rungs over on the corporate latticework. Given such conditions, it’s no wonder that offices can often be hothouses of envy, pity, despair and contempt. Paradoxically, they are also very dull places to spend your days. Offices are either the theaters of our ambition or the prisons where we were condemned when we betrayed our dreams.

Dreams are for free

 

I had a friend once who told me that the worst mistake that you can make is to think you are alive, when you’re really asleep in life’s waiting room. The trick is to combine your waking rational abilities with the infinite possibilities of your dreams. ‘Cause if you can do that you can do anything.

Did you ever have a job that you hated? Worked really hard at? A long, hard day at work, finally you get to go home, get in bed, close your eyes, and immediately you wake up and realize that the whole day at work had been a dream? It’s bad enough that you sell your waking life for … for minimum wage, but now they get your dreams for free.