7 to 4, Monday through Friday, saving the day

I a bit like a super hero, you know. You didn't? Well now you do! Shit!

I mean, I leave my lair everyday (this time I'm referring to my home as my lair. Like the batcave, but with less awesome stuff and less cavedness), put on a disguise and then spend 7 to 4, M-F saving the day. Seriously. Except, my costume is way lamer than any costume ever. Except Auquaman.

My costume consists of taking our or hiding my piercings, hiding my tattoos, putting on fancy clothing (WITHOUT stains!) and looking, overall, presentable.

And my saving the day is less of catching falling sky-buses, but more like knowing how much vinyl or lexan or acrylic we have or we need. That and doing the actual designs for each customer.

Mostly though I spend my days on blogger, myspace, facebook, and kongregate whilst listening to my 'Rich Kids on LSD' station on pandora. Because, usually, my work only takes a few moments of touch up or file prep before it's off my plate again. My work could almost be compared to a wafer-thin cracker. And then I explode.

Not really, though. The exploding. Or the cracker. It just differs from day to day, and today, I don't even have a cracker. I actually had some oatmeal creme pies, some ice water, and a toasted bagel with peanut butter. And I haven't even left for lunch yet, awesome.

It's a rather simple job really, and it leaves me time to work on things that are actually important in my life: my girlfriend, my freelance graphic design work, rock climbing, building a comptuer... etc...

Not to say I don't like my job! Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my job! If my job was a gathering of friends, it would be a cheese night... with Rock Band 2 on an HD TV. This job is great: it's easy, with the occasional challenge; the hours are perfect; the co-workers are awesome; my boss is rad; and soon enough the pay will be spot-on. And it's not like I slack off, either. Each wafer thin job that comes my way I gobble up and poop out as fast as I can. Sometimes I get enough jobs to get fat like Marco in Metal Slug 3. Except my shotgun pistol is an old dell computer.

Well shit, looks like this post is a little more serious than normal, eh? Probably not very entertaining, but that's why it's my blog and not your blog. If it was your blog we'd have to sit around and read about... how... your ponytail won't stay tight because it keeps getting pulled. Also, you might or might not be a 12 year old girl.

See, even my insults are lame... Well, originally this was going to be a rant about how it's ironic that someone in a creative position isn't allowed to creatively express themselves (piercings and tattoos) but I don't really care because I get paid and it's Graphic Design experience. Anyway, I'm going to take my lunch and play Sonny on Kongregate. This post is done like dinner.

-peace out and rock on