Boredom
I have just started work, at the nearest mart to my house. It’s only ten minutes’ walk away—a far cry from the long walks in China—but these ten minutes now seem much longer than they used to. Perhaps it’s because I sweat on the way, or because I dislike my work. At any rate the pay is horrible: only fifteen bucks for nine hours’ work.
My job description includes packing goods in plastic bags, arranging trolleys, and generally making myself useful. My job actually includes packing goods in plastic bags, arranging trolleys, generally making myself useful, and getting bored half to death during the slow hours, which means between 2 pm and 4 pm. It’s simply horrible to be sitting there, with nobody around to talk to, with nothing to do but stare mindlessly into space until the occasional customer appears. It’s simply horrible. It’s at times like these that I most miss the old camaraderie of my old schoolmates. The people I now see everyday can’t speak a word of English or Chinese, have only a very rudimentary education, and have absolutely nothing in common with me. They aren’t even my age, for crying out loud! But the pay makes it a little more endurable; and so does the odd meeting with an old schoolmate or acquaintance. Oh well, nothing is ever quite what one expects it to be.
The worst, of course, is that I now have nobody to talk to. It’s most annoying. At least Herr Robson, Meow, Kelvin, and the rest at Shining Institute have each other to talk to or others. Even those few in the Torture Camp have companions. Me? I have none. [Sob!]
I suppose this means that my posts will be getting decidedly short from now on; I’ve nobody to type about, nothing to tell anyone about that will be in the least degree interesting. In fact I doubt whether my previous babblings were really of any interest to anybody except insofar as they concerned that person. Or maybe I’ll become very much like ZW, who just had a poem published in a paper, and become extremely introspective, emotional, and philosophical. Perhaps I might even type out a poem here!
Or then again, I just might get so depressed with the prospect of enduring this job for the next two months and start using this blog as a drain for all my negative thoughts about everything in the world and under the sun. Heaven knows I’ve got enough negativity in me to be a walking thundercloud; my family is already complaining about my ceaseless sarcasm. I seldom used to be sarcastic at home; only at school where people didn’t mind arguing back. Here, they launch into tirades of how one should be sweet, and kindly, and never ever be sarcastic…you see, I’m going nuts already.
I think I’m starting to fear that letting my mind go so blankly unused for such long periods during working will shave off a few of my very few IQ points. In fact I think quite a bit of my IQ has already been shaved off.
My job description includes packing goods in plastic bags, arranging trolleys, and generally making myself useful. My job actually includes packing goods in plastic bags, arranging trolleys, generally making myself useful, and getting bored half to death during the slow hours, which means between 2 pm and 4 pm. It’s simply horrible to be sitting there, with nobody around to talk to, with nothing to do but stare mindlessly into space until the occasional customer appears. It’s simply horrible. It’s at times like these that I most miss the old camaraderie of my old schoolmates. The people I now see everyday can’t speak a word of English or Chinese, have only a very rudimentary education, and have absolutely nothing in common with me. They aren’t even my age, for crying out loud! But the pay makes it a little more endurable; and so does the odd meeting with an old schoolmate or acquaintance. Oh well, nothing is ever quite what one expects it to be.
The worst, of course, is that I now have nobody to talk to. It’s most annoying. At least Herr Robson, Meow, Kelvin, and the rest at Shining Institute have each other to talk to or others. Even those few in the Torture Camp have companions. Me? I have none. [Sob!]
I suppose this means that my posts will be getting decidedly short from now on; I’ve nobody to type about, nothing to tell anyone about that will be in the least degree interesting. In fact I doubt whether my previous babblings were really of any interest to anybody except insofar as they concerned that person. Or maybe I’ll become very much like ZW, who just had a poem published in a paper, and become extremely introspective, emotional, and philosophical. Perhaps I might even type out a poem here!
Or then again, I just might get so depressed with the prospect of enduring this job for the next two months and start using this blog as a drain for all my negative thoughts about everything in the world and under the sun. Heaven knows I’ve got enough negativity in me to be a walking thundercloud; my family is already complaining about my ceaseless sarcasm. I seldom used to be sarcastic at home; only at school where people didn’t mind arguing back. Here, they launch into tirades of how one should be sweet, and kindly, and never ever be sarcastic…you see, I’m going nuts already.
I think I’m starting to fear that letting my mind go so blankly unused for such long periods during working will shave off a few of my very few IQ points. In fact I think quite a bit of my IQ has already been shaved off.
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