Sunday, June 1, 2008

Whinge

Back at the cash job and hating every second of it. Why, oh why, do I always get the most fucked up, disorganised, idiots to work for? … Who treat you like slaves … Who couldn't care less if you spontaneously combusted right there in front of them and would have someone else sitting at your desk before they had cleaned up your entrails? I hate this cash job business. I have to do something, a lot of things, to get rid of it for good. I am not a nice person, a productive human being, or an asset to the world when there is a cash job in my life. There has to be a way to make a living from writing plays. Other people do this … right?

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