why deadlines are killing me
timelines are arbsurd.
what’s the point? time is in flux, and so are milestones. certain people would approach life from the perspective that every date needs to plotted a month in advance. these are probably people who frame their calendars above their bedposts, and dream of opportunities to yell at teammates who miss deadlines. and although i can’t claim to have had these malicious dreams, they would in theory be amazing. on a side note, since my house is probably submerged a foot deep inside the earthquake-ridden san andreas fault, i hang my calendar just to side of my bedpost to avoid it crashing on my head while i dream of yelling at people.
imagine how grand life would be without timelines - you’d never miss a deadline and would never be placed at any fault for fucking up your job. if that’s not covering your bases i don’t know what is!
look, we’re the recession generation, so it only makes sense that we live a life of paranoia and trepidation. no one can blame us for being insecure. I should start a t-shirt company that prints out facetious messages like “the recession effed me” but i probably can’t afford a small business loan….you know, b/c of the recession and all…
so, who needs rules or protocol or deadlines or a business model anymore? we’re all effed in the end. i suggest we cut our losses and reboot society to a simpler time.
hunting and gathering is looking mighty appealing these days.
imagine how perfect it would be.
our days would be spent foraging for berries, lounging in filth (preferably in the nude), knocking up a hot huntress at a sun god ceremony, starting a family, settling down, stockpiling food to survive the winter, finding a steady job at the local bazaar selling an assortment of loincloths and wolf-tooth necklaces, managing a shrieky wife and ungrateful snot-nosed children, keeping the gimp boss happy, and, most importantly, making money and meeting deadlines…. wait.
wtf.
life sucks.
