Desk

I am sort of hunched over my desk, and I think these chairs are destroying my back. Which is annoying, but not nearly as annoying as the piano music they have decided to play on the hold music I usually listen to in order to keep my brain occupied in between calls. There's something inexplicable depressing about mediocre piano music when it's played back with sloppy, fuzzy audio. There are no words, no other instruments, no nothing, and for some reason this specific combination of factors makes the music very alienating, despite the fact that I like some of these pieces. I hate offices. At least right now I do, and no I don't always. In principle, I admit that I love my job, but sometimes the fluorescent lights and the bad hold music and the constant influx of stupid people getting angry at me for their stupidity makes me feel heavy about the limbs, and heavier about the chest. I don't know why. Everything about me feels slow. I think this is what they mean by sick-building syndrome. My eyes are bloodshot and my teeth feel like they don't belong in my head, yet I'm not sick. I should exercise more. I should get more fresh air. As it stands, it feels like an effort to breathe. Maybe tomorrow, I'll feel better.

Maybe.