The worst of times is at 4:00 pm on a Friday afternoon. I'm stuck in a windowless, narrow room with only the glare of the computer screen for company. Not 20 feet away, in the lobby, are large windows that almost sadistically point out that its a sunny, pleasant day outside. The kind of day made for cricket, football, or anything else that involves not being 'here'.
There is not a person in sight because any and all sensible beings walking upright have cleared out for the weekend. The phone has not rung in hours and I know for a fact that it will not do so till closing time. I have trawled though websites and blogs all afternoon, reading desperately to quell my boredom and rising frustration.
The only reason I haven't bolted for the elevators myself is because the over-zealous dragon passing off as the office secretary will kick up an almighty row if I leave a minute before 5:00 pm. I have a book that I can read, but the deathly stillness in the air and a rather heavy lunch ensures that I begin to nod off halfway through the page. This has happened 3 times already. In the last hour. If I sleep off... enter the dragon, again.
I've worked at this department exactly 1 year, 4 months and 9 days. Another 40 days to go. Another 6 Friday afternoons of this funereal atmosphere to live through.
A 25 year old man wasting his time in this fashion every day for heaven knows how many months, strangled by boredom and simmering at the uselessness of it all. Or at his helpless need for this job.
And people wonder why I chose Phnom Penh.
Pah!
Song for the moment: Time drags by real slow - Cliff and the Shadows
There is not a person in sight because any and all sensible beings walking upright have cleared out for the weekend. The phone has not rung in hours and I know for a fact that it will not do so till closing time. I have trawled though websites and blogs all afternoon, reading desperately to quell my boredom and rising frustration.
The only reason I haven't bolted for the elevators myself is because the over-zealous dragon passing off as the office secretary will kick up an almighty row if I leave a minute before 5:00 pm. I have a book that I can read, but the deathly stillness in the air and a rather heavy lunch ensures that I begin to nod off halfway through the page. This has happened 3 times already. In the last hour. If I sleep off... enter the dragon, again.
I've worked at this department exactly 1 year, 4 months and 9 days. Another 40 days to go. Another 6 Friday afternoons of this funereal atmosphere to live through.
A 25 year old man wasting his time in this fashion every day for heaven knows how many months, strangled by boredom and simmering at the uselessness of it all. Or at his helpless need for this job.
And people wonder why I chose Phnom Penh.
Copyright: Bill Watterson |
Song for the moment: Time drags by real slow - Cliff and the Shadows
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