“This is where I wish I didn’t work.”
An office cubicle in Phoenix, Arizona
I hate my job. I feel like a whore, selling my life away, eight hours at a time. I’m told to dress a certain way, and act a certain way; both feel unnatural to me. Growing up, the common advice was “find something you love and do that for a living”. What if doing what you love doesn’t pay the bills? Well, you become a whore, my friend. You become a whore.