Though I could walk out the door with the intention of never returning, I know I will.
Because I have.
It’s become more of a requirement to be here, than a want.
Ok, it was never really a want.
I followed the pack.
I took the leap they took.
Hoping it would better me.
There are days when I’m reluctant to look around.
I just do my business and head back to my corner.
I pretend to be here when I’m really not.
Hoping no one has spotted me, while secretly hoping someone would.
Hoping someone would relieve the dreariness of my own thoughts stuffed into a box.
Don’t ask. This is all I know of her. I refuse to listen to a word she has to say.
I won’t lie, there are good days.
Days when I feel like I’m a part of something, days when I can head to group and feel loved by my sisters. Days when I’m feeling happy to share with the world.
But then there are days I curse my choices for causing me to be trapped in this hell hole where I’m required to be present to prove my worth.
The policies are warped.
It’s all about the money.
What’s good this week, isn’t good enough the next.
Changes are always being made, not for the greater good, not for the little guy.
For the higher amount. For the guys who sit behind the big desks on the 16th floor.
I can adapt to change. It’s the survivor in me.
But these changes? They don’t benefit me OR YOU.
Am I the only one feeling used and abused?
And those invitations to play those stupid games…
And the spying never ceases, even when you think you’re safe in group, there’s no privacy.
For your best interest, of course.
Yes, I know, we give up our right to privacy the moment we hand over our info.
Maybe Facebook just isn’t FOR ME.
No I haven’t lost my bloody mind. Turns out pretending to be present just isn’t enough anymore. I actually lost a gig because the client thoroughly checked through my fanpage to see how active I am, and found me lacking because I don’t have any apps hooked up.
LMAO. That’s ok. Got a post out of it.
photocredit: © olly – Fotolia.com © Scott Griessel – Fotolia.com © Heater – Fotolia.com