Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Woes of men with toes



What do you do when you don’t want to do what you’re supposed to [and paid to] do?

As I sit at work, I have no motivation to do any “projects”. I put projects in quotes because they’re presented to me like they’re going to take months to finish and I should be honored to even have the chance to work on them. In reality, it’s bitch work no one else wants to do and the actual work takes approximately 20 minutes to complete. And that’s if I check Facebook and go to the vending machines.

I just can’t muster up the fire to do anything here because I know my efforts will either be swept under a pile of we’ll get to that later and nice try but no or [as I’ve been told several times every month] you don’t know what you’re doing because you’re too young. Nothing here excites me. I’m more so trying to avoid having to do anything because I’m just not feeling it. I feel myself resisting almost everything given to me. I’m not challenged here so any “project” I’m given just feels like busy work.

Maybe it’s not this way in every corner of corporate America, but here in my little niche, upper management strives to break people of their creativity. They stifle it until it’s gone. Don’t think differently. Don’t bring up better ways to go about something. Don’t do anything that didn’t work for us back in 2002 [I wish I was kidding, but this is how my company thinks]. I’m exhausted from the continual months of being ignored and underused. How often do you actually have an employee begging to do work? That used to be me when I got this position; I couldn’t have enough work and I loved every minute of it. Then your awesome manager leaves and you get put in a corner. I lost the desire to ask for work months ago when I was repeatedly told you’re not a writer. Funny. If I’m not a writer, then why did you hire me to write copy and content for the company? I don’t understand anything anymore. I need hot chocolate, palm trees, John, a nap and a gigantic Cherry Coke.


You’re not a writer. I love people who enjoy eating their own words. 



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