When you find yourself sitting there at your desk in the middle of the week after America cruelly decided to have its birthday on a Tuesday instead of allowing you the luxury of a complete three-day weekend like a merciful country, you will ask: why did I come here? More importantly, why did I drink so much last night knowing that I would have to arrive here at least before 10 a.m.?
You will then look over your shoulder to make sure your boss can’t see that you’re merely perusing other jobs and replying to personal emails only to find that yes he (but probably she as most corporations love putting women in middle management) is right there. Staring at your head as though trying to astrally project into it. And when you briefly envision him whipping you as they did to slaves in the old days, you’ll later flash to the last balance you saw in your bank statement and remember why you came here today. Why you, like America, are still clinging to your capitalist views.