White-Collared
I'm just sitting here on a Monday;
Trying to survive the second week of a complete return to the office that has only started approximately 2 hours ago (because the first half hour of staring at my screen hoping my brain kicks in doesnât quite count, I think);
Regulating my temperature like a reptile - shedding layers and then sunning myself in a window - because building maintenance canât establish consistent airflow through the maze of canvas-covered half-walls (and my government-assigned 8x8 square is right below a vent);
Drowning out what workplace-sounds I can with a video essay detailing some drama about mod-makers having paywalls for their Sims 4 and ParaLives content (the half-hour of mediocre entertainment is surely worth increasing my cumulative disdain for Societyâą);
Somehow still overhearing the unsolicited monologue of a coworker Iâve never met being bestowed upon a good-natured colleague I have known for years but generally only talk to through Microsoft Teams (whether it is received as a boon or a burden has yet to be determined);
And being coerced at all times by my pessimistic, gremlin-brain to accept that my lived reality may, for this moment, be the most mundane, privileged version of hell a mundane, privileged person like myself could willingly subject themselves to without fear or recognition.
I think we have a pizza party tomorrow.





















