I got respect for working people.
I never really understood what it’s like to work a 9-5 job. Everyday. Well, I work 10-6. But same difference. 8 hours is a LONG time. And I’m just sitting at my little cubicle by the window most of those hours, except for the occasional respite bathroom or lunch break or interview or meeting.
I come home hungry and exhausted. I have no energy to go on those runs I told myself I would do. My feet hurt from dodging all the death bricks. The day seems so long while at work, and then there’s never enough time when I’m finally home. Can someone explain this to me?
I can’t really laugh at my parents anymore who go to bed at 10:30 — this seems late to me now. I have become one of THEM—the tired masses who can’t quite make it to The Daily Show. Trust me I know. I didn’t think it would happen this fast, either.
But hey. I’m not complaining about my internship! I’m learning so much all day, every day. I just never anticipated it would be so draining. But maybe the silver lining is that I savor all of my moments with my family and my friends all the more? Ehh, debatable.
Actually I can see myself aging right before my eyes. My Twitter and Facebook feeds are all too overwhelming: when I do get the chance to look at them, the slow and steady feeling that I am missing out on things seems to set in. My phone’s screen is sprawled with texts and GroupMe notifications and CNN alerts that seem to indicate that the world has been turning while I’ve been working… what an interesting concept. My Instagram feed needs to be refreshed like no otha’. And, all my Snapchat friends feel neglected.
Ah, the working life. Don’t get me wrong, but part of me would be glad to sit at home and watch this all day:
YES BOTH. I know you’re speechless.
But since I can’t do that, I’ll just wait until I get to see Queen Bey IN FLIPPIN’ PERSON on July 29 in my beloved D.C., just down the street from where I work eight hours every day.
So, I guess I can take the trade-off and stand all the exhaustion a bit more. Nothin’ better than a little Beyonce motivation for a workin’ girl, am I right?