Counting down the minutes to an 8 hour day

Experience the passing of time in an office environment on an unproductive day is like going through various stages of a terminal illness. The journey ahead seems so long and endless but as a human being, we give ourselves hope. We say to ourselves, "It's not so bad, we can occupy ourselves and hope for the best." Somehow we think a miracle will happen and either we are sent home, there is work to do again or we just die on the spot.

As the day goes on, your headache increases and you're constantly looking over your shoulder waiting for the worst to happen. By hour 6, the flesh pocket surrounding my eyes called eyesockets felt like they were swollen or that my eyeballs had sunken deep into its recess all the while shriveling like a prune. They were ready to fall out if a fellow co-worker only nudged me from behind.

Now, finally I am in the home stretch. I should stay until 6 PM but that is much more than I can take for today. The people here must think I am the biggest slacker. In about 15-20 minutes, I will begin to slowly pack things up. Still feeling the pain yet almost giddy with excitement. The heavy feeling in my head will lift the instant I walk out of this building. I simply can't wait.