Boy, all this work stuff's pretty hard, huh?
Yep. It sure is.
What is this whole work thing, anyways? I mean, isn't this whole concept of labor just something perpetuated by the man to make us forget about the truly beautiful and enlightening things happening all around us? And aren't there so many more things you'd rather be doing than working? Working for the man?
That's probably not how you pictured yourself when you were a kid, right? As some office drone or clerical robot or the faceless recipient of boring responsibilities and mindless tasks. And yet, here you are, trapped in a world that demands hours upon hours of monotonous effort if you want that paycheck at the end of the week. If you want that money for your motor carriage payments. If you want those dollars for your drinking habit. If you want that cash for your canned vegetables and your club sandwiches and your cones of cream. You have to work for it.
I know it's not pleasant to hear. It's like raping your earholes with a bag full of brutally honest dicks, isn't it? But sometimes the truth stings. Well, if that little nugget of truth was an unwelcome and unlubricated intruder, you're going to want to brace yourself.
This work thing you're supposed to do...we all have to do it.
Stop it. Stop interrupting. I know you're flabbergasted by this revelation but just, please, let me continue this note and stop shouting at all the words. Thank you.
Anywho, as it turns out, those crappy, soul-crushing things you have to do every day are the same crappy, soul-crushing things that we've all been doing for quite a while now. The key difference here, of course, is that we legitimately do these things, rather than simply complaining about having to do them. On that note, I don't think you fully comprehend how the complaining process works. If you're not going to do the things you're complaining about having to do, then do you really need to complain about them? (This isn't a riddle. The answer is no.)
Ready for another mind-blower? All those tedious tasks that get under your skin, they don't go away when you shout at them, no matter how many obscene words and gestures you use. They're still there when you walk away in a huff and they're even still there when you clock out half an hour early. And guess what? They have to get done at some point. And your coworkers--the responsible ones who complain about doing stuff while actually doing that same stuff--are the ones who pay the price for it.
Clearly, a solution is needed. A reward system? Could we do something like that? How about we put together a nice little reward system? You know, like in kindergarten with the gold stars and the juiceboxes and whatnot? I'm all about giving kudos when they're due, so let's say that for every day of honest-to-goodness work you do, I won't stomp in one of your internal organs.
See? Now you're not just earning a paycheck, you're adding years onto your life, too!
We'll put this into effect immediately. Tomorrow, if you're a good little worker, I'll spare your kidneys. And we'll just play it by ear after that.
Hopefully and helpfully,