Day One of PTJ (Part Time Job) number 2.
The tasks themselves are easy enough. But let's just say, I can see why people who work in corporate offices seem to thirst for weekends, parties, sex, booze anything anything anything exciting luscious lifegiving fragrant wild or just plain alive.
A lot of this job (mine, at present, I mean) involves reading loads of corporate crap (it doesn't relieve the tedium that it's in a second language which I also find excruciatingly boring).
The stuff is soul sapping.
Someone made X which they invested in Y, partnering with Z for ---- (*insert fantastical sum here) profit, which will benefit ------ people (*insert either: Precisely Zero OR, if you're feeling social-responsibility biting hard at your backside, another fantastical figure).
What nonsense. Seriously. Who cares!?! The moon is out. The vine leaves are glowing in the streetlight. There's a walk to take up the high street (mundane Spar visit, but is sounding positively throbbingly exciting compared to this 'reading'), love to be made, articles to read and major decisions to make: Should I take this pair of jeans to India or that. Should I kiss him now or after dinner or both. Perhaps we should take a walk late at night and sit on one of those benches by the river with an icecream (like in high school, but with no Should I buy a Vogue magazine this month or resist - in the name of paring down - again.
Is this job worth the pittance it pays and the activities it costs?
Job done, mission accomplished, that wasn't SO bad. Just quite bad.