The Sweet Release of Death

Don't call it a comeback

01/31/2010 08:39 PM Filed in:Songs from the Dais

We have all done it at some point or another, sighed heavily on the waning moments of a Sunday night, surrendering to fact that the dreaded morning of Monday is yet again to emerge. You may sock your pillow a good one with a fistful of rage with the thought of giving The Man another eight hours of your life. I personally kick my blankets off in a whirlwind of utter contempt worthy of the most voracious of Al Pacino performances. But despite all of our body’s attempts to keep from moving one inch closer to the workplace, the brain overrides the flight program and activates the fight protocol. The inner five year old temper tantrum gets a spanking. Yeah, we trudge through showerin’ and shavin’ and pour our selves into our cars to shuttle us to the gates of Hell itself, Work. I’ve worked for some good companies and I have worked for some dogs fronting as actual businesses. What lies ahead are the true tales of my time in the workforce trenches, from landscaping to dot bombs, corporations and mom and pop shops, I’ve been through it all. The idea of this chronicle was born of a colleague’s presentation and a photo that lied within it. A picture of a cubicle with the most miserable, and for the most part, realistic example of a corporate soldier held within. The caption: “ I pray for the sweet release of death” Well kiddies, your prayers are answered. I give you The Sweet Release of Death.

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