I was recently offered a job, a very very corporate job. I have to admit, the offer was tempting. There are many perks to the corporate life... great paychecks, water-cooler banter about last night's episode of 24, free pens...
but perhaps most noteably the opportunity to bust some serious gitch. Do a sort of Dior Homme for Femme kind of thing...
Crisp dress shirts with mini-collars to elongate the neck, tailored blazers and streamlined pants, skinny ties and lime green bowties... the click clack of louboutins from the elevator to your desk.
And the paychecks might even help you to legitimize purchasing that unreasonably beautiful scarf you've had your eye on since the air became crisp, who knows?
But lets call a spade a spade people. Corporate life leads to suicide. It also leads to the death of creativity.
... and with the death of creativity comes the death of everything i hold dear.
But I have a question! How much sex is had in these offices? I feel like theres a lot. Bare asses getting accidently photocopied during mid-day trysts... perhaps I've been watching too much channel 566.
Anyways...
Sucking up to/on 60yr old republican corporate men is so not on my agenda. Although the allure of the easy peasy corporate life was appealing for a few moments, its just not for me. Now don't get me wrong not all corporations are bad, not at all... the ones who promote their employees and encourage creativity are awesome. So, I will bide my time until I end up in a happy place even if the paychecks are smaller and not necessarily conducive to Hedi Slimane.
At least I wont be stuck under a desk trying to get a bonus. (cough, amanda, cough... kidding♥)
oh yes, i have forgotten to tell you. i am not going back to school in the fall. if i do not find a job i like by then i might wander off somewhere warm... you never know do you?
-Izzy Stradlin'
xoxo
a.
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