This Is The Work Story

I've been watching myself falling deeper and deeper into the hideous web of internet dependency. I get home about noon every day and spend approximately 3.5 hours surfing, reading my favorite blogs, and attempting to download songs. Oblivious to the cries of my favorite horoscope, urging me continually to break free of my complacency, I have wasted so many hours in front of the computer. This is the preface.

My horoscope suggested future problems somewhat slyly: "Save your righteous anger for causes when you are truly justified; neglect your own hypocrisy and suffer the consequences." The Academy began ringing shortly after that, hounding me about substitutions and bringing up mountains of negativity. I began to get more and more upset, boiling inside by day and dreaming of beheading bleeding puppets at night. And that is MESSED UP. But my horoscope had a point. I was demanding that they leave me alone so I could do what? Enjoy more quality time with my computer?

After a night of tossing and turning, I hesitantly headed into work to talk to my boss (no names: please don't fire me), who assured me that he still wanted to pay me full-time if only I would work a maximum of 2 hours a week. He went so far as to promise me that these hours would always be immediately before or preceding my current schedule. I relented, hoping I wasn't opening myself to a royal screwing-over in the future and that karma would honor my choice and reward me with sacks of money.