Another Saturday of Work

God I hate work.

And when I say that, I'm not sure whether I mean ALL work, or just my present job. I must say, I'm not horribly fond of work in general. I'd much rather just play the day away. You know, be outside throwin' a frisbee or something. ANYTHING.

Maybe its my definition of work. I guess the word "work" for me would be defined as follows:

work: ('wurk) n. or v. 1. a task or job that one dislikes immensely that exists without the option of ignoring. 2. A chore. 3. generic term for a place of business that doesn't deserve a better description. 4. action of doing or being busy with a most disagreeable task or job. 5. looking fierce on a runway or other modelling venue.

Using this definition, I consider the following to be work: mowing, weeding, trimming, raking, making beds, washing dishes, vacuuming, dusting, quality engineering, metallurgy, managing others, finding a new job, etc.

Today (saturday) I am at 'work'. Much as I was last saturday. I don't like it here very much. And my plan of sitting on my fat ass in my office and working on my music composition is not panning out well. I have been inundated with requests and 'work' since arriving.

In short, it sucks being here.