What Would You Do In Heaven?

I WANT A BETTER JOB!

I have a nice job.  Well, uhhhmm… I thought I have.  When I was a child, I sort of envisioned this kind of job, you know – having my own table with a calculator at the top, together with all the pertinent papers and documents neatly organized, a computer by my side (or was it only a typewriter then?), a telephone to hold important conversations with, all these nice people (are they?) coming to office at 8:00 am and going home at 5:00 pm (well, let’s make it 5:01), and a job that pays well, say 10,000 a month (I guess I didn’t take into account the inflation rate back then).  Anyways, I have this kind of job, and I should be happy.

But why is it that I seem to drag my feet to office every morning?  Why is it that I seem more tired at the end of the day than when I once worked in a busy mall store?   Why is it that whenever my friends ask me if I’m happy with my job, I can’t directly tell him, “yes”?

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