I refuse to go another day. I’m done twisting my back 7-to-5 every day to still end up little better than broke. My damn boss won’t even pay for Memorial Day. I was not allowed to work that day, but my contract doesn’t make them pay me for the forced time out. Why can’t he see that wasting my time like that truly hurts me? He knows I’m on my own.
This is my youth, my life. I’m going to give a dead-end job all my time and strength, and then I’ll be an old, burnt out man with wrecked joints. I can’t afford to start school, but at least it’s free to see every other guy with friends, and a car, and a functional family, and a girl who kisses their cheek. Ain’t life beautiful? And at least I have my brother’s handmedown computer and clothes, and a crappy apartment. Why should I want more? Aren’t I just a resource for a company and the higher people to use up?
Well, I don’t care if it hurts when I go; I can suffer a few bloody hours if I can last years of the usual B.S. I don’t care if my family feels bad. Maybe they can do what they told me to do, like “suck it up”, “stick it out”, or “keep a stiff upper lip”.
1 comment
go to a community college, take out loans, fill out financial aid, and get a better job.