I wrote the following article when I was in my early 30’s drifting aimlessly in and out of temp jobs.
It has the potential to offend some readers.
‘Being in your thirties is not that old, but it’s old enough to feel mortality. I had developed a keen sense to establish myself – make my mark by my mid-thirties. But I had given up and seemed content to get on with the slow suicide of government work’
Sitting, peering, folding and unfolding arms. Chewing my Nicorette gum like a man possessed. My third shot for the day.
No one smokes at work, which means I can’t smoke either. The place where I work is a government department, but it may as well be an outreach arm of ‘Quit’.
It’s almost unhealthy how healthy it is.
At work, I act like a reformed smoker too, cringing at the lazy bastards smoking at the entrance to our building. “Why don’t you go and do that somewhere else?”
Clicking the Send and Receive button in my email has become quite a habit. I’m unsure what I am hoping to achieve by digitally prodding the outside world except develop a compulsive disorder. I glance at other people’s screens as I meander about the office. What I see are the flickering splashes of popular sites such as the footy-tipping page, Facebook messaging…
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