laughs and loneliness of the 21st century
I'd like to have a new job before I'm 40. Something like cleaning offices in a pharmaceutical office tower. I imagine all the pharmaceutical executives and admins have free pill samples in candy dishes on their desks. And I could stuff my mouth and pockets with pretty-pretty colors as I work my way along the cubes and offices, vacuuming the carpets and taking out the garbage and numbing myself to imaginary altitudes of temporary transcendence. And maybe I'll even purchase a television for my room--a black&white television--and watch reruns of Barney Miller or The Honeymooners while drinking isolation fluid and heating a frozen dinner. And fall asleep with the light on, thinking that the bulb in the ceiling is a distant sun I will someday reach with a little more lift from pills and isolation fluid.