Tedious Duties

I love the work I do and I put my all into it. But today I have to do something I consider rather a waste of what would otherwise be a productive day. I have to go somewhere and listen to corporate waffle and sales pitches then pick up a bag of freebies on the way out. The journey to and from this place is not straightforward either; it will be a pain to get to. Why can’t these people have offices in the middle of the town? Oh no missus, they’ve got to be on an ugly industrial estate so you can’t even escape into humanity during the break. Eek.

I will endure, I may learn something, but I will also return home gritting my teeth and clenching my jaw having spent a day in a pit of capitalist marketing. As a socialist this is torture, pure mental torture. I don’t care how smiley they are, I don’t care how great their success rates are, and I don’t care if they plan to expand into Patagonia or wherever it is. I am a quality not quantity person; I don’t measure success by footfall or bar charts. I measure success by looking at someone who needs my help, guiding them through the mire and out the other side, and seeing them smile for the first time in months. I don’t sell anything and I certainly I don’t sell hope like the capitalists do. I give it willingly.