Job. Story.

Every day. From Monday to Friday. To work. To work from which is sick. On which he got stuck like a fish on a hook. From 8 to 18. Everyone, fucking, day. And from day to day, the eternal question – why? Why do I do not like? Why can’t I afford what I want. What I want to do. What I would do with pleasure and love.
Maybe somewhere, at his work, a person sits, and thinks about my work also? Why can’t he do my work. Why does he love her so much, and not what he does now?
Yes, they pay well at my work, for my area. Yes, this is better than revenge yards. Yes, many would like to be in my place. But I don’t want. How many people who are lost in this loop do not want. Mobius loop. From Monday, following ahead, with all your might, you come exactly to the same place where you started. Day after day. Routine. Hard labor. Jail.
Strange, but I have a persistent sensation, the feeling that I can get out. I am capable of more. I see the door in front. Door with the cherished inscription “Exit”. I can open it. I want to take a step. But my legs seem to be nailed to the plate on which I stand. “He stood here and could not take a step, could not take a chance of a worthless piece of meat. Live garbage.»I am one more just a fleeting character, someone like such a fleeting life. But no, persistent sensation. Sensation of power. My mind puts on shacks on me. And the soul threw the key. I put all my will in the leg. Let’s. Get up. LET’S! Loud clang. The shackles collapsed from my feet. I go! I go! The first step. The first conscious step. I made him like a baby. Second. I can. The door is closer and closer. The goal is far from me. But I will get. I can handle it. Hands became wet. There is a question in my head – why? Why am I doing this. Why am I going to the unknown. What behind the door? Freedom? Or maybe the abyss? Probably abyss. After all, it is rarely otherwise. NO! I won’t let you break me. Put on knees again. I will no longer be a slave. A slave of habits, a slave. The door is closer. A little more. Now I already see a reflection in the handle. What is this? Behind me? In reflection? There are silhouettes. Faces? People? They look at me. They want to say, but silent. I’m closer. Closer. I hardly feel my legs. The whole oxide. Apparently sweat. I can hardly touch, almost touched. Another step! Forces leave. Need a jerk. How the Olympians tear out the energy from the soul to run forward, like soldiers, through pain and fear continue to fight. So I am. I can. Step. Step. Step. And I’m at the door. I’m ready to open it.
The last breath. It is difficult to breathe. I hold out my hand. Is sweat so thick ..

The best comments

And today I set my new record. He worked from 12 days on Friday to 7-30 a.m. Saturday. 19 and a half hours in a row with one break. If I have not deserved to be taken to paradise, I dick knows what to do for this 🙁
Catch the quote.

Tell me how you can love your work and generally enjoy your life, if you need to wake up around the alarm clock at half past seventh in the morning, get out of bed, dress, forcibly push into yourself breakfast, shit, pitch, brush your teeth, comb yourself, shake in crowded public transport – in order not to be late for work, where you will get the whole day. money, not for yourself, but for some uncle, and at the same time they will also demand that you be grateful that you have been given this opportunity?!

I don’t like the work? Strive up on a watch in special Russian. And your work is the current dream. You even pay a salary. This is a luxury)

In fact … you can. In our https://nongamstopcasinosites.co.uk/ country, it is all the more possible. Just many who do not want to strive for this and content with what has, or is not content. All. Curtain.

My work was described and my attitude towards it. How do I hate her. And I can’t break out of this swamp since there is no alternative

Stuck near the Finnish border. All around the forest, hills and former military town. There is nothing. To the nearest normal populated punt – 120 km. This city is so advanced that there are not even prostitutes there. And this whole path, before this wonderful place, is also nothing. Forests and hills. There are no housing, houses. Only the road, forest and hills to leave here a giant problem. And in these places you go a shift at a construction site. They promise the Golden Mountains, but you work for food and housing. They don’t pay anything. There is no advance. Unhealthy garbage, when you ask a whole construction site, who gets how much and no one knows.You live in the former barracks and amenities from there. This is not a job, but a sect. Plus, people who have begun interwater leave have been living for a barracks for two weeks. They cannot leave, there are no money, there are no tickets, in two months the watch received 15 thousand rubles. Get out. Tell me how bad it is to work from nine to six and steadily receive a salary. More welders here are garbage, carpenters- concrete workers with masons, and the chief engineer bought a diploma in the transition. Blindness. If I get out of here, you need to make a more detailed post

“Ha!»I will tell you and laugh in the face. Even if you round your time up to 20 hours, this is still nothing compared to my records) there are many of them, the last 45 hours of clean work (both mental and physical in turn) without sleep and with rare breaks. But these are flowers. My colleague did not sleep for 70 hours at work (though after that he got to the hospital – after 70 hours he could not fall asleep on his own and he was stuffed with sleepy to sleep) that is what the lack of personnel and a very responsible work).WITH. But they pay perfectly, so I don’t complain)

You were not clogged with romantics-alcoholics-poets, damn kids. They were not. And I do not advise. Being terrible. And then everything then has to be restored. And the longer you are there, you lose more people. More precisely, you are forgotten how worked out material on the sidelines of life! When you lie in a muzzle in a pool from your own saliva, and under your ass you have another pile of crumpled paper, only a good muzzle will help you.

Poor nut. Poor poor. I worked simultaneously at 3 works and eventually received about 20 tons. Moreover, one of the works suggested a trip by bus for the city of KM 250. And the bus from there left two days later. And sometimes I didn’t leave at all. But there is nowhere to live there. Everyone has difficult periods.

It is worth clarifying that 10t. It goes monthly for a communal apartment and 5 more for training at the institute. And for the rest, if it remains, you can live and shine.

Every day. From Monday to Friday. To work. To work from which be sick. On which stuck like a fish on a hook. From 8 to 18. Everyone, fucking, day. And from the day in day, Eternal question – why? Why do I do not like? Why I I can’t afford that I Want. What I I want to study. What I I would do with pleasure and love.

Try to remove extra signs and repetition.

Every day, from Monday to Friday – to work. To work from which is sick. Where is stuck, like a fish in networks. From 8 to 18. Every fucking day. And the eternal question always torments – why? Why do I do not like? Why can’t I afford what I want? What I would do with pleasure and love.