Thursday, January 29, 2015

It's a Living

The office birthday cake looks like a crime scene after I'm done carving it up. I have no idea how anyone thought that I was the guy for the job on this, because I always seem to make a hash of it: too big pieces for some, too small for others, and all of them in ruins, slapped on flimsy paper plates and slid across the giant conference room table to the bored and ravenous.

Afterwards, I slump into my filthy office chair, sweat gathering in the hollow of my chest, exhausted from jumping around to entertain my fellow cubicle jockeys. I take a sip of water and turn to my email, hunting for the next assignment.

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