Pursuing natural health & thinking beyond the superficial. Deconstructing Culture.


I wrote this a when I was really feeling the hum drum of monotonous daily routine, hated the commute and had started to snack at my desk… I hadn’t gotten into the Solitaire stage, although I’ve since heard thousands had. It wasn’t that I wasn’t working, it was that I was good at multi-tasking and exempting a few occasions everything ran pretty smoothly, which included me doing extra tasks out of ‘taking the initiative‘ and being ‘switched on‘, damn I hate those phrases, they usually translate into working harder, longer and being paid the same or less. So I had done my paperwork for the time being, was taking phone calls and as the saying goes about idle thumbs, well, more like fingers, I decided to write this – discreetly though. I thought I’d post it because of the numerous articles I’ve seen lately on work/office related stress and work cutting into personal time as well making it difficult to take care of household issues. So hopefully we can sympathise or empathise with each other but find the humour in some of it too.

A ‘typical’ working day for some of us?

It was a wildly sunny summer morning
I woke up tired and stretched while yawning
Opened my weary eyes to fresh blue skies
And shook myself awake with gleeful surprise
Happy thoughts in my head were dawning

I gently pulled myself awake and felt like some cake
But remembered my diet and told my stomach to keep quiet
So I snuggle back in bed, such an awful sleepy head
But before I can smirk, I realise, OMG, work!
What a horrid way to start a morning!
Off in a bustle, a mad dash to get ready
Hurry through the motions, have to keep myself steady
Teeth, face, clothes, food and hair
Quick look in the mirror, no need to stop and stare
One glance told me enough, talk about beyond repair!

Run for the bus, miss it, trip and curse
Damn this godawful traffic, I swear it just gets worse
I’m not going to be late, I wont I wont I wont!
I’m running a fine line, but I’ll get there on time, you see if I don’t!
Next for the train, all this rush wont be in vain!
But the train is no better, bodies pushing like a battle
Squashed together, hot and stuffy, like frightened cattle
I’m annoyed, tired and dehydrating
Why does commuting have to be so frustrating?
Not even 10 o’clock and I feel like a used sweat sock.

Moody and glum, I stagger sweltering into work
Made it on time, well, enough to stop my boss going beserk
For once I’d like to turn up happy and smile from ear to ear
Must be this low sugar diet, can’t be good for my career
Oh well, doesn’t matter, time for a coffee to get my head in gear.
Now time to work fanatically, hopefully without distraction
If I can get in my zone, it’ll be fast, furious action
Working like a machine, efficient and productive
Mundane it might be but at least it’s constructive
It’s pays the bills, why should I moan, it should be satisfaction!

Working and working, hoping for lunch time
Food breaks are the pit stops of the day, sweet and sublime
A break from all the hassle, too bad it’s only an hour
Just enough time to buy and come back, no time to savour just devour
With indigestion looming, I sigh, respite will later be mine.
It’s the end of the day, wonderful, hip hip hooray!
Now just another hour to get home or an hour and half
And I’ll put my feet up, watch the telly and laugh
Make some dinner, catch up on news and generally be okay
Until I realise I’m too tired to do the things I wanted to do today.

Work countless hours a day, and the commute time and again
At least 5 days a week, with just 2 to catch up on house work
And hobbies I’d like to develop, this working life should really be zen
But with my fast food diet, bad sleeping patterns and health
I’m stuck in a working life cycle that’s more like a lion’s den
Battling with insomnia when I should sleep, and sleep when I should wake
It’s a wonder I get anything done for myself, other then eat lots of cake
How do others stay refreshed, happy and full of life
I feel all I bring on myself, is worry, emptiness and strife
If I could just pull myself together I might be alright
And finally be cheerful and such a splendid sight

But my question is, who was the dummy that stated
Out of 7 days a week we should work for 5 until we feel grated
With 3-4 hours a night to ourselves but really for other types of work
Family, pets, housework or homework, it all needs to be attended to
So I say again, who was the dummy that said we could do all this and yet pull through?
No wonder there are so many cases of stress related flu!
A handful of holidays, is that really enough?
Are we working ourselves into the grave, no that can’t be true
With the mortality age getting higher, there must be more to construe
Maybe we just switch ourselves off, and get on with the grind
Subduing our personalities so we can keep our peace of mind

But this isn’t a reflection, of all there is to have
Life is full of opportunity, a supposed promised land
We see it everyday, on the tv, radio, press
It’s hounded by the media, celebs in fancy dress
But promises and fairytales are not for all by far
Only few can ever grasp them, and become a shining star.
But then again that’s not all we see in our daily papers
And remember this point, please do
We see a lot of pain and suffering
And we can say ‘thankfully it’s not you’
There is always someone worse off, treated like rot
Cases that makes us re-evaluate what we’ve got

But neither of those mean we should be made to feel down trodden
Stuck in the mud, wasted, wet and sodden
Made to feel less then what we are, belittled and useless
Life is a balance and we have to do our best, it shouldn’t be fruitless
Ups and downs and circumstances out of our control
It’s easy to give in to the grind and fall into a hole
But life isn’t actually that short and we either live with it or not
There’s no moral to this rhyme, I hope that’s not a crime
But if it’s presented you with any empathy
Then I hope it was worth the monotony
To bring a smile to your face, for at least one moment
Was for me, more than enough acknowledgement.

© ladyofsorrow


This poem is pretty poor construction wise, the pacing and spacing are rubbish but I wrote it fast and for the sake of it ‘fun’.

Working Too Hard Work Death Wage Slave Tired Stress Life

utopianlies.blogspot.com – I don’t know if this is a real story or not but it isn’t out of the realm of possibility.

The problem? Everyone/thing being seen livestock, personal lives and issues are sidelined and seen as less important to work. People think they’re hiring robots, people think of themselves as a drop in the ocean and that it doesn’t matter if they go along with the flow which isn’t a flow but orchestration. ‘Business’ is a blanket excuse for negating personal responsibility to oneself and others. The word ‘business’ might as well be interchangeable with the word ‘war’.

We look down and see ants and other organizations that are both efficient yet mindless and their waste levels high, they look up and see monsters, how do we look to those looking down on us. Our perspectives aren’t that different but when someone grabs your baby and says “mmm baby chops/mince, will make delicious dinner” or hurts you en masse because its ‘best/accepted practice’ who will/do you blame and ask for help from and aren’t you the same? Why are you the same? You backed/followed the wrong horse(s), played the game and were played. Puppet Masters and game players. Wolves and sheep. The Iron Mountain. Corporation and assets. Dead weight. All that equals = sickness and abnormality.

Comments on: "For those Chained to their Desks or Otherwise" (2)

  1. The Otaku Judge said:

    I have three hours of my shift left and not much to do. Time to bust out Solitaire.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s