Because I want people to know that I’m still sensitive to the plight of the corporate drone, I sent this e-mail to a former co-worker who is dealing with the realities of corporate life. I wanted him to know that even though it seems pimptastic, life on the outside ain’t all bitches and Hennessey.
I heard things are tough around there, but life within the corporate fortress can’t be as bad as it is out here.
Since I quit, I have absolutely no structure because there’s no one here to tell me what to do. Do you think it’s easy to think of things to do on my own? If it was summer, I’d just go to the beach, but it’s the dead of winter, bro. What do I do inside? Read a book? Write? E-mail people? Surf the web? Sip my coffee and ponder the universe like some unemployed Carl Sagan wannabe?
I have no idea because there’s no one here to tell me.
And you know what being alone means, don’t you? I can’t have any meetings. Without meetings, how am I supposed to feel smart? It’s not like there’s a constant flow of idiots banging down my apartment door to ask stupid questions or randomly fall asleep while I’m talking to them, you know. Meetings used to guarantee that my sense of humor would stay sharp, and without them, any comic abilities are pretty much shot. I have to resort to knock-knock jokes now. Do you have any idea how low knock-knock jokes are on the humor scale? Do you? Knock knock. See? You’re not even thinking about saying “Who’s there?”
The sadness doesn’t end there, my friend. Because there aren’t any corporate types to deal with, I’m forced to to talk normally to normal people about normal things. No one wears suits to prove they are better than everyone else, making it impossible for anyone to determine whose ass to kiss. It’s like everyone has given up on hierarchy and stopped trying to impress each other. I don’t remember getting into a Delorean with Doc Brown or buying a ticket on the love train, but I’ve somehow been transported back to some hippy age of Aquarius. Do you have any idea what that’s like?
As if that weren’t enough, I’m finding life outside the mothership to be a health hazard. Without a hierarchy, I’m devoid of lines to read between or double-talk to decipher, so parts of my brain are turning to mush. Most of the time, I have to struggle to keep my blood pressure up enough to keep me awake. Unemployment is no picnic, man. Be thankful that you are not here. Whoops gotta go. Toaster strudel is done.
Have an awesome day in Heaven, you lucky bastard.