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I smile: You smile
May. 6th, 2004 03:45 pmWhoever said laughter is good for your health was spot on. Merriness, pranks, joviality, giggles, a little bit of this - a little bit of that. Friends should always tease each other - like siblings. My brother and I are always playing jokes on each other. The same with Kevin: I've made up a thousand and one nicknames for him, in an half-hearted attempt to harass and amuse him. The current one is Monkey Ball. :P
If people were more spontaneous in offices, the days wouldn't seem so dull. Walking to work this morning: pumped gym bodies, gelled hairs, silicon boobs and power suits. Starbucks in your right hand, a suitcase in your left. I looked at a cafe's window and saw myself reflected in it - a part of the zombie pack.
I have plans to apply for work at Kew Gardens. Lift pots of earth, scrub Queen Victoria's glass houses, walk the perimeters and make sure teenagers aren't smoking any joints. Get a tan and a nice umbrella for the rainy days. Hide my sexuality from the other handymen - but secretly they'll know and not care about it. They'll teach me how to swear in cockney and scoff when I try to buy them some Stella Artois.
Or I could keep buying lottery tickets. Win 30 millons pounds. Show up at a Weatherspoons, find the table with all the goths playing Scrabble, hand them plane tickets to Brazil and promise to show them the best goth club in Sao Paulo.
Or fly to Canada and buy a house in Montreal's Plateau... I guess I could go on and on with this. Temporarily alone in the office.
Job hunting never ends - when it has never begun.
If people were more spontaneous in offices, the days wouldn't seem so dull. Walking to work this morning: pumped gym bodies, gelled hairs, silicon boobs and power suits. Starbucks in your right hand, a suitcase in your left. I looked at a cafe's window and saw myself reflected in it - a part of the zombie pack.
I have plans to apply for work at Kew Gardens. Lift pots of earth, scrub Queen Victoria's glass houses, walk the perimeters and make sure teenagers aren't smoking any joints. Get a tan and a nice umbrella for the rainy days. Hide my sexuality from the other handymen - but secretly they'll know and not care about it. They'll teach me how to swear in cockney and scoff when I try to buy them some Stella Artois.
Or I could keep buying lottery tickets. Win 30 millons pounds. Show up at a Weatherspoons, find the table with all the goths playing Scrabble, hand them plane tickets to Brazil and promise to show them the best goth club in Sao Paulo.
Or fly to Canada and buy a house in Montreal's Plateau... I guess I could go on and on with this. Temporarily alone in the office.
Job hunting never ends - when it has never begun.
