Weekends Off

December 2, 1998


I’m at work right now on lunch break. Three and a half more hours and then I will be able to go home, let down my hair and smoke a big fat joint. I am beginning to hate this place. It is better than the bowling alley I’ll give it that but man it’s boring. I have to play little games with myself just to make it through the day. Digitize up to five hundred and then you can take a drink of your Dr. Pepper. Two-hundred more and you can stretch for a minute or so. Life is starting to get to me again. I am crawling back into my shell once again forgetting how to socialize.

Later that night…

Another night spent smoking myself stupid. A “pat on the back” after another tedious eight hour work shift and tomorrow will inevitably repeat itself. I hate this feeling. No money left to put back, future paycheck already spent. Stuck. When all else fails go back to college. I think I’m going to take a journalism course and a photography course. Forget tracing lines for the rest of my life. It is money for the time being but certainly not a career. Big Difference. Guess I ought to be glad I’m not flipping hamburgers anymore. Did I mention I get weekends off?

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist