three (
threeplusfire) wrote2004-01-09 11:03 pm
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Work only survives because of the internet
My So Called Blog: NY Times magazine article on teenage bloggers, with many references to Livejournal.
I've read way too much of the Times tonight, and refreshed Drudge fourty thousand times in my quest for sustenance. My queue currently holds 11 certs. I've completed 24 tonight. Our production standards have been oh so generously lowered from 46 certs a night to 40. We're all doomed. If they give everyone warnings, they won't have to pay our end of the year bonuses. And just why the hell does the end of year bonus not materialize until the end of February? We're paying bills now.
Brett is moving to the dayshift Monday. Work will be less fun without him around. Who will sign all my stuff, or make fun of things with me now? My side of the office is quiet. No D&D tonight, we're going out to drink and celebrate Brett's fortune in moving on towards happier desks.
Lately, I dream almost always of Anna. She was only created to be a minor character in the scheme of things, but I keep finding her. I haven't figured out what her story is, other than her midnight flight in a stolen Jeep with a laptop and a briefcase. She's bitter.
Why won't they send us home? Don't they realize none of us are working, that we're all telling stories and taking illicit smoke breaks or surfing the net for something, anything better?
I've read way too much of the Times tonight, and refreshed Drudge fourty thousand times in my quest for sustenance. My queue currently holds 11 certs. I've completed 24 tonight. Our production standards have been oh so generously lowered from 46 certs a night to 40. We're all doomed. If they give everyone warnings, they won't have to pay our end of the year bonuses. And just why the hell does the end of year bonus not materialize until the end of February? We're paying bills now.
Brett is moving to the dayshift Monday. Work will be less fun without him around. Who will sign all my stuff, or make fun of things with me now? My side of the office is quiet. No D&D tonight, we're going out to drink and celebrate Brett's fortune in moving on towards happier desks.
Lately, I dream almost always of Anna. She was only created to be a minor character in the scheme of things, but I keep finding her. I haven't figured out what her story is, other than her midnight flight in a stolen Jeep with a laptop and a briefcase. She's bitter.
Why won't they send us home? Don't they realize none of us are working, that we're all telling stories and taking illicit smoke breaks or surfing the net for something, anything better?
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First of all, I'm in high school....
When I see what's going down in my "blog" the first thing I do is read my "friends," I can get to what other peoples say later....
And fuck the bullshit, I spend me time on AIM when I am absolutely-positively bored. Like, "I have nothing else to do." And I really like some of these people, for whaddeva tha's worth.
And as to the rest of the article, here's a hearty FUCK YOU to this guy.
Ceterum censio, delendus est Canada. ~KMK
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