the last 2 weeks I made it to the office before 8. I don’t know who I am anymore.
however, becoming a 5 am morning person has consequences.
It was 9 am and I was asking for my long black coffee and scrambles eggs with cheese, and crossed one of the three friends I have at the cafe. she told me about her weekend and asked me how I was doing.
I never did acid.
but I guess is quite similar as the psychedelic trip I started in the coffee floor of the company I work with.
I talked so fast. I moved so much. no structure. no file rouge. no sense at all. as my life lately.
it was something like this: ‘can you believe it! I have been for two months here and I still don’t have Australian dollars, I needed to buy soap for my wash machine but the grocery did not accepted cards. I ended up in a bio ecological store and bought this new wash machine soap that costed me 40 dollars but look at my clothes, they are no soft at all. smells weird and leaves a texture so hard. when I dressed up this morning I felt weird. btw my morning vibes are getting ruined, I am having a huuuuge truck who is parking in front of my place and is removing all the light of my kitchen in the ground floor, and I like to see the doggies playing in the park, I called to the mairie but they didn’t understand me because of my accent. so frustrating. I found a new brand for toilet paper named ‘who gives a crap’, how funny is it? haha – and very convenient because it’s sold by units. my stomach is so bad lately, I think because I don’t like my job, how it is for you? I feel like I am in a massive prison. my cell is J54 of weeklysales.xlsx, in the F section, inside another section, apparently the most dangerous one, as we deal with thousand of clients, but is part of a bigger frame that you never manage to see. is like a cult where you never get to know to who are you making money for. Like a never ending loop of square thinking and productivity waiting for the messiah. You can’t ask questions. Is the frame. The frame answers to something bigger than us. You have to give up everything towards the frame. I think they call it capitalism. Capitalism as it worst, don’t you think? Is becoming a torture, every time I want to get free, my finance yells at me: gross margin sandy! all my career to end up talking about margins, god, what have i done? I am loosing it, everybody knows about social media being bad for your mental health but, what about excel?’
Poor girl became pale. her eyes stopped blinking. she was about to faint.
‘your scramble eggs, sandy’, said the waiter. I took them and told her I have to leave, I have gross margins to improve after all. i turned off towards the elevators. she followed me.
as I was having in one hand a dish with eggs, and in the other a big mug of coffee, I could not press the elevator button.
‘could you please help me pressing my floor? you see… I can’t even take elevators in this country’, I said. and started crying.
I think Pedro Almodovar would like me.
I was wearing my plumber jumpsuit and the 2 lateral buns. I have 2 friends now instead of 3.
