There are a number of things that I'd rather be doing today. The easiest and most obvious choice would be to just be sitting at home doing nothing. I have a very comfortable overstuffed sofa that I could easily go right back to sleep on. I have a pretty substantial television, on which I could enjoy any number of daytime programs, including but not limited to: reruns of sitcoms, cheesy judge shows, The Price is Right, and, of course, soap operas. I also own a Playstation 3 and recently bought the latest Final Fantasy installment, a game that I have had no time to really play.
But there are other things that I would rather be doing today. Things that have nothing to do with being at work. Things that have nothing to do with being at home. As my assistant manager mentioned, having my eyeballs scooped out with rusty spoons would be one of them. True, it would be one of the less pleasant options, but it would be a good option nonetheless. Other activities include having elaborate dental surgery, being tortured for information that I don't have by none other than Jack Bauer, being given thousands of paper cuts over most of my body and then being forced to bathe in lemon juice, or going to a circus and being subjected to the terrors that are clowns.
Instead I'm here. I'm dealing with customers that don't care that I'm here to help them. They're only interested in complaining whenever something goes wrong. I'm dealing with ridiculous expectations that are coming down from the powers that be, adding to the stress of a job that I'm already underpaid and overqualified for. I know there will be moments in my day where I will want to not only destroy my sometimes-inoperable-computer, but will also be tempted to find a sledgehammer and just start taking down the building brick by brick.
However, there may be one bright spot in my day. It's something that I try to look forward to each day that I'm forced to make my 45-minute commute. That would be the Girl in the White SUV. Though I realize she doesn't come to my drive through window on a daily basis, the chance that today is one of those days is sometimes, if not always, just enough to keep me coming back here. And so I chain myself to my window for my daily sentence of 8 hours in hell. All for the hope of a smile and an awkward feeling at some point between 2 and 4 in the afternoon.