I Finally Quit My Job.
Release.
It's over. I can rest. I gave a one week notice.
I hate this office. For the stress, the apathy, the politics, and the unprofessionalism.
But most of all- Worst of all- I hate the comfort.
I don't work here. I sit on my ass all day, trying to fill my life with meaning through watching car accident videos on youtube, window shopping on amazon, and endlessly scrolling though twitter.
I don't work here. The office is essentially an adult daycare.
My life has no adversity. No challenge. No real, big balls human feelings.
Every day I sit here, experience small hits of stress and dopamine, I become duller. More depressed. More dependent on distractions to make me happy.
The more I get pinned down and fucked by my management.
So fuck it. I quit.
No real plan.
No job lined up.
Rent to pay.
Just an abstract goal.
I feel like I made the right choice.
Maybe not.
But it's finally over.
...
Fuck it though I'm just going to breath into my balls or whatever like this guy.
This company can suck my chode from the back.