You know it is at 2:00 PM that your brain goes "Alright you know we've had a really good run here, we've done good work and I feel good about this. It's been about eight hours now, and that's a full work day, and so its time to wrap it all up and head home." It's 4:00 PM when you think "Well you know it's been a long day, just one of those days you know. I'm tired, and I'll be pretty sore tomorrow, but I'm sure glad it's over." It's 6:00 PM when your brain goes "This ends soon, right? Please? Please..." It's also around the time you start looking at the clock more often. 7:00 is when it gets compulsive.
I swear to god half my work could be achieved by a sign twice as tall and twice as large as our current signs. People just need directions on everything! People don't trust themselves to put in the damn paper, they need instructions on explicitly how to do it. And every single time, they ask "Does it matter what side?" No it doesn't matter, backward forwards upside down or whatever, I assure you I've seen people do it your way 100 times in the last hour. But no, gotta do that, and gotta do the hard work of constantly connecting people with the line they need to be in. It's like some sick twisted bureaucracy sim, called "Line Manager 2016" with the Election DLC. And there's never any payoff: you get one person out, but another takes their place. One group goes, another enters. For hours. At least the lines seemed to have chilled out for now. Most people are at or coming home from work, although the six-o-clock wave is coming. It's nice. The scanners haven't had a line in 15 minutes.
You folks want my gossip for the evening? I saw Tiffany Trump today (she's a runway model, his only daughter with Marla Maples). Emphasis on
saw. My first realization that something was up was a quick blur of pink and blonde go past me, followed by a brief but overwhelming wave of perfume. For what it's worth (and it ain't worth much) I can say that she is pretty attractive, but not, like, amazing. Not even the most attractive person I've seen today. Again, your source for useless gossip coming at you live from on the streets of Manhattan.
Here's my official prediction for the election:
Here's mine: I work until 11:00 PM taking shit from every self-entitled nutter in the Upper East Side, briefly go home to check who won (surprise, Hillary), take a train ride to my dorm, and pass out on my bed.
I'ma go now. Gotta get dinner while I can.