The Part Timer2007-09-07 03:37:30
My fingers were aching! I wanted to get my work done and get the hell out of there so bad that I had been sitting behind that goddamn terminal for six hours straight without taking even a break. I had to stop for a couple of minutes or I knew that my fingers would fall off. I got up and walked to the outer office. I sat behind the bosses' desk, put my feet up and picked up an ancient copy of TIME magazine and started to read it. Soon my thoughts wandered. I looked around the dingy old office and thought to myself what a rat-hole it was.It wasn't the worst job in the world, but certainly not the best. I had taken the job as word processor in order to have some money for drinks when I went out to the Charlie's and the other local bars. I was planning to keep the job until I graduated college and could get a real job, sometimes I hated it so much that I wanted to walk out right then, but I never did. When I first started there, I would go to work every night after school. I would usual