It is a waiting game. Waiting for more assignments. Waiting until 5PM. Waiting for my paycheck. Waiting to get fired. Waiting to retire. Waiting to die.
(n * (Commute. Sit. Wait. Commute. Eat. Sleep.)) Die. Where n == the days I have left in this world.
The things I work on feel like absurd, meaningless boondoggles with no head and no tail. So here I am spinning my wheels as I hurtle toward a grave.
That I know this is my reality forces me to deeply question the society I participate in. If I am so bound, restricted, constrained in my actions and daily routines, why not just cut to the chase as die already. The repetitive script for how my invarient pattern of living shall progress is obvious. Do I really need to live through it 10,000 more times?