One day, you’ll wake up and unearth how much more bitter you’ve become, more haggard–less believing in possibility than you once were–and all because you’ve been poisoned by your “day job.”
Like a snake that slithers up to you clandestinely from the recesses of wherever it has crawled (the way jobs crawl from recesses like Indeed or temp agencies), your occupation will infuse you with venom you never knew you were capable of holding on to. But rather than kill you as you should let it, the survival side of you allows it to fester, penetrate your blood and make you into something new, someone hardened. But a delicate spirit can never withstand this level of venom. It will commit suicide or quit instead. Both are kind of interchangeable considering how important money is in this town.