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Today I interviewed a typical drone in the working collective and asked him a simple question.
"Bill, why do you hate your job?"
He sighed deeply, his shoulders slouched, and with a quivering bottom lip he began to describe his typical day.
“The alarm goes off late, or probably doesn't go off at all. It's still dark outside, and I don't want to wake up my wife, so I scramble around and try to find my clothes. After dressing hurriedly, I grab my keys and head out the door. I work in the city, and get the train, so I rush to the station. I'm going to be late…again. I reach the station, and the platform is packed, as usual. A dreary voice on the PA system announces that the trains are canceled, due to leaves on the line, the wrong type of snow, a drivers' strike or any other reason that they can think of. Everyone begins piling out of the station to catch one of the few bus services that are laid on to take us to our destinations.
When I eventually get into the office building, the security guy asks me for my pass. I have been working there for what seems forever, and he still doesn't recognize me. I can't find my pass. He then has to call someone in my department to vouch for me, again. When I finally make it to my desk, the message light on my phone is blinking, there's a pile of email in my inbox, and a load of paperwork on my desk. I need a coffee to get me going; I didn't have chance to grab one at home. I go to the coffee machine, but don't have the right change. The ‘no change given' light is lit, so I am either going to have to take two drinks at once, or leave the next person a free drink, again. I make my selection, and then wait for the cup to drop. It doesn't, but the drink still pours, straight into the waste tray beneath.
So, coffee-less, I go back to my desk and begin to tackle the never-ending pile of paperwork. Later, I need to make some copies, and head over to the photocopier. It isn't working, again. It is out of toner, and the last person to use it ignored the fact. I grab a new cartridge and begin to take out the old one. Toner goes everywhere and I am covered in black powder, again. It takes ages to clean up the mess, again.
Just as I am managing to get started on my pile of work, I am called in to the department head's office to meet my new supervisor. I take one look at the guy, and he is younger than my kids. I have worked here for years, and he graduated from some college or other, yesterday probably, and just walks into a job above me.
Finally, the day ends, but not before my computer loses all of my most important files, again. I give up on yet another day, and head home. As I am waiting for the bus service that is still replacing the trains, I see the office intern drive past, and her car is better than mine. To add insult to injury, I finally get home to my wife and young son. As I open the door, he screams, and tells my wife that there is a strange man breaking in. Well, he hardly sees me because I am always late home from work. That was one of the better days. Now why do you think I hate my job?!”