No matter how much you like your job, there is always a point in the day when you feel yourself slowly losing your mind.
This goes for everyone, even Matthew McConaughey, who just has to flex his pecs, star in terrible movies where he plays the same dumbass every time, and sometimes say brilliant things like “Alright, alright, alright!” for his job.
My Point Of Peril is always the last hour before I leave the office. Everything is fine until then. The beginning of the day is great, I do some work and make some calls. After that maybe I make some jokes about setting up a hammock between the printer and my desk and having my coworkers give me a push whenever they print something out.
Then, in the space between the morning and The Last Hour, I do lots of other crap that isn’t very funny and rather boring, like counting how many paper clips I have in my top drawer. There’s 27.
When that last hour hits though, I completely lose my mind.
I start to think about suicide, and how really, it wouldn’t be that bad of an idea.
I could just kill myself.
Just end it all. Then there’d be no more Last Hours and no more watching the clock creep by.
I’d just be dead.
Of course I’d type out a letter to all my friends and family, and even print out a good forwarded email (Snoopy drinking a beer is one of my favorites) so that they all get a laugh.
It really wouldn’t be that bad.
Sure some people would miss me, but they’d get on with their lives by thinking, “Well, he did say that his last hour at work seemed long, so I understand. He’s in a better place now.”
Somehow I never end up doing it though, I trudge through my Last Hour and get up and do it all again the next day.
Maybe I should start flexing my pecs more.
Yes, I think that will make things better.