damn you, plastic cups

i didn’t want to be here again. i thought i had settled my anxiety and confusion back in november, but now i find myself gasping for a way out. today, i was that employee who calls a neighboring business (while on my lunch break mind you) inquiring for a position. i was that employee who curses at her boss (silently, of course) while he hands her a receipt revealing a mistake she had made. come to think of it, i’ve been cursing to myself a lot lately. i curse at the coffee makers. i curse at the smell that the kitchen leaves on my clothes. i curse at the dishware that has become so revolting to me. about the only thing i don’t curse at are the pastries, cause what sort of person could carry a grudge against pastries? well, maybe i speak too soon...maybe next week i will start giving the evil eye to a chocolate croissant or two. i didn’t want to be here.

apparently—much to my disappointment—i am not one of a kind. what i mean to say is that according to a recent survey, only 45 percent of americans are satisfied with their work. that is the lowest level recorded by the research group who has been studying this issue for more than 22 years. yikes.

(you can find the entire article here: http://www.newsobserver.com/business/story/268355.html)

i think the article hits the nail on the head with the comment that, “workers who find their jobs interesting are more likely to be innovative, to take calculative risks and to use initiative to drive productivity and contribute to economic growth.” i can attest to this statement for i have seen my own level of satisfaction with my job plummet as my interest level and outlet for creativity have become, shall we say, near to the ground? and get this: workers under 25 expressed the highest level of dissatisfaction among any other age group. yep...definitely not one of a kind.