Compulsively Eating Wheat Thins

Welp.  I guess I’m going all in on this writing thing as it has become undeniably apparent that I am “quiet quitting”.  After literal decades of “working for the man”, I think I’ve hit my breaking point.  I had a crap review (where I was told how wonderful I am, but the private equity firm that owns our company is not giving out promotions – ie I’ve hit a ceiling).

Now, I was raised with the firm belief that hard work pays off, but I gotta be honest, in my current situation that seems like horse shit.  In fact it sounds like fairytale horse shit.  There is no chubby old lady flying in to poof a pumpkin into a carriage, bibbidi-bob my only friends (who are rodents) into steads and have them take me to a party that will change the course of my life for the better.  Real life in corporate is just the steaming pile of crap those rodent-turned-horses left behind.

Am I bitter?  Fuck yeah!  I’m as bitter as the black coffee I’m drinking in my lounge chair in my yard right now.  It’s 12:08pm, definitely what’s considered “working hours” and yet I haven’t done shit at work today.  I had breakfast, did some online shopping, went for a walk at the beach and now I’m sitting in my yard writing this masterpiece.  I’m also compulsively eating Wheat Thins.  I’ve had so many I feel like I might be sick, yet oddly, I keep eating them.  Clearly, the quiet quitting and self loathing is real.

Since I have no life plan, I should probably be putting in at least a little more effort at work. The thing is, the definition of stupidity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.  Maybe at 41 I’m finally intelligent enough, strong enough, stupid enough, or mid-life crisis-ing enough to say “Fuck this shit”.  I’m not doing it again.  Time for a career pivot.  “PIVOT!” (If that didn’t make you picture David Schwimmer and smile, we can’t be friends).

So here I am pivoting in my yard, in my lawn chair, about to be sick from ingesting a disgusting amount of Wheat Thins, just trying to figure out what’s next.  If you are feeling an overwhelming sense of discouragement, lack of direction, or are ill from eating your feelings, I am with you.  I don’t have any real words of encouragement at this stage of life-digression other than “bibbidi-bobbidi-boo motherfuckers”.