Yesterday I was not in the mood to come to my day job. My night job as an artist/writer is almost always more fun/stimulating/fulfilling you name it & I was behind in a few of my awesome projects. So when arrived at the shiny exterior of my work I was in a raging bad mood and when I crossed the threshold the feeling of depression fell on my shoulders like a heavy blanket and there in a tiny dead heap was a bird.

My work had killed a bird.

I’m convince this tiny fellow with the bright yellow feathers in his wings flew into the negativity bubble that surrounds my work & died. His cheerfulness could not survive it. I imagine since he was so perfectly preserved that he was killed instantly by a brain aneurysm. Sad but final. He was dead. I still had to go inside and work for eight hours.

Luckily, my fellow inmates do their best to fight off the grayness & I made it through another day. But in the midst of commiserating, two of us compared this place to a bad relationship. We keep coming into it cheerful & ready to work on our issues. But it keeps coming at us telling us there is nothing wrong with it. Work says our feelings & ideas are not valid. Work says we used to be thinner, younger, prettier… Work never says thank you and never cleans up after itself. We are constantly cleaning up after it thanklessly.

I feel like I’ve been trying to break up with my job for months now. So do I stay & hope it changes? Or do I leave before I’m a tiny dead bird with my cheerful feathers stilled forever?