You're Here Anyway. Make It Tolerable
Every disaster starts with good intentions
It starts with a book. It ends with your walls matching your mood and your wardrobe matching your resignation. There is no middle ground.
You've started reading things your employer wouldn't approve of. The survival guide for the job that's slowly dismantling your personality. The journal for tracking exactly how bad it's got. Nobody knows yet. But you do.
Your walls know. Your wardrobe knows. Graham definitely knows. You've moved past quietly coping and into publicly not caring. The art says what HR won't let you. The t-shirt says what your resignation letter should.
In some ways
"Hung one of the prints above my desk. Got sacked by Thursday. Security escorted me out, entire floor chanted 'hero'. No regrets."
"Wore one of the t-shirts under my shirt for a week. Nobody saw it. But I knew it was there. Got me through four meetings, two restructures, and a team-building exercise involving a canoe."
"Bought the Survival Guide on a Sunday night at 2am. Quit by Friday. Best £9.99 I've ever spent on my own future."
"The chapter about not getting promoted hit so hard I stared at the wall for twenty minutes. Picked it back up because the next chapter was about revenge fantasies."
"My sixteen-year-old asked what the book was about. I said 'your future.' He laughed. I didn't."
"My coworker ate my sandwich. It was 3-layers of meat. I've dedicated my life to making them regret this decision...."
