November 3rd, 2009

thebsinwobs

so i have been a research writer for more than two months now, and i can't say how much i've grown weary of this job. you could say we were led here by a red herring, which lystra and i want to beat down with a bat until it turns to mush because it lied to us about money. our job is to write papers for anonymous clients who are only known to us as extremely stupid college kids with really bad grammar, as we are known to them as five-digit id numbers. studying literature in college, we were told to never give up our intellectual integrity, and as writers, our thoughts and voices should never be compromised. that's why citation and the mla style was invented.

anyway, we do these papers and, the brainless hand them out as their own, get good grades and pass the subject, not just because they are rich enough to request for a paper on bestessay.com, but also because of our hard work. i know, we got this job voluntarily because we wanted it (only at first), but then it sucks out our happy spirits and leaves us with fart.

the other day, a client, who has chosen me to write all his papers, gave me feedback:

at first i felt happy because i produced a great paper (there was a time he referred to me as a genius), but then it felt depressing because the indian guy got recognized for my work. and it's not like i get rewarded for my good work with money. i only get feedback that does not translate into money. hmm, i seem like i'm into the moolah so much.

aside from this, the office just keeps shoving so much work and requirements on our faces. and consequently i think about school and then i miss it, and then i hate myself for admitting it. i'm just really glad that lystra's with me because if she wasn't, i'll probably be a depressed mess, and work would be the most unbearable thing ever, next to having no gravy in the world.

and i forgot to mention that the office reeks. like payatas.