I hate Organizations

My organizational strategies class seems to have created in me a loathing for organizations. Before the class, this was my career aspiration: Become famous and possibly rich through this blog, and the many I will have created since my life will revolve around eating potato crisps, the internet and not leaving my house. I couldn't picture myself handling various responsibilities since responsibilities are life's way of telling you, "Hey! I have another side, a side that you'll probably hate...." I couldn't see myself handling a 9 to 5 job, waking up early each day, wearing a tie and hating Mondays. Now because of this stupid class, I have affirmed this. I hate organizations, I hate the corporate slave ship and I hate all the people who made everyone else hate Mondays!

Knowing that life does not usually end up the way we want, I have prepared myself psychologically for the kind of organization I would work in. This would be a normal day at work for me....

I would gently tap the snooze button on my alarm clock since I'll love waking up at 4 in the afternoon. A quick shower then straight to the closet. Black suit, white shirt, blood red tie, gator boots and holster check! Oh wait! Sun glasses, check! I would then run down stairs and find my partner impatiently waiting. The drive away from the city would be refreshing as I sip on some Red Bull (the breakfast of champions) and meditate on today's projects. My partner would slow down as we approach the gate making time for us to show the friendly guy holding the AK-47 our ID cards. We'd park right under the huge AREA 51 sign, it shields the car from the sun.

The doors would slide open with a swoosh after flashing our cards to reveal a large warehouse-looking building with hightech gadgets and people in suits walking around purposefully. We would walk towards our station past the aliens in the huge liquid filled incubators and then just as we approach our desks, I remember the practical joke my partner pulled last time and I see this as an opprtunity to hit back. So I push him violently and shout, "He's got a gun!!!!" and watch as everyone, me included take our guns from our holsters and point at his direction.

The chances of that happening are however not as promising as I would like and so I have to prepare myself for the alternative.

After waking up at 5 in the morning so that I can beat traffic and get to the office before my boss does, I get to the office 25 minutes after the mail guy who is always 30 minutes late. I discover that I forgot my tie and that is probably why my boss is giving me this weird cold look like I'm the one who told his wife about him and his last secretary at the office party last december. I would then walk to the coffee maker frustrated, since the space bar on my computer keyboard is broken and so icannottypemyreportlikethis, only to find the coffee maker broken and so I have to wait until lunch since they forgot to bring tea bags. I try to get some work done, but the IT guy can't fix my computer because last week I got frustrated and 'accidentally' stapled a stack of papers on his forehead. And so like a zombie I would drag myself back to my desk and wait until it's time to go home...and probably kill something.

Therefore, to prevent any life altering disappointment, I have decided that the only organization I would work for is one that would hire me as a kick ass undercover agent.

Otherwise I'll settle for my house, a pantry full of potato crisps, unlimited internet and a bunch of followers bent on seeing that I become famous.

Anything else can eat a bag full of smelly socks!