Free-Write
I hate Monday. As I start my car, I hear the whining of the poorly maintained belt begin to sing to me, to make sure I am awake. As pull out of the narrow driveway, I begin to light the first cigarette of the day. That first inhale hits me like the first bite of a pizza,when you have been hungry for hours. I sip my coffee, puff my cigarette, and wedge my way through traffic. I hate mornings. As I drive to work, thinking about anything but the 8 hours I will spend at work, I realize that I hate work. Other than the benefits of employment, which is pay, I really see no point in going. I have no passion for what I do anymore. I dreaded the idea of going into my office, getting on a conference call and talking about why our performance
I hate Monday. As I start my car, I hear the whining of the poorly maintained belt begin to sing to me, to make sure I am awake. As pull out of the narrow driveway, I begin to light the first cigarette of the day. That first inhale hits me like the first bite of a pizza,when you have been hungry for hours. I sip my coffee, puff my cigarette, and wedge my way through traffic. I hate mornings. As I drive to work, thinking about anything but the 8 hours I will spend at work, I realize that I hate work. Other than the benefits of employment, which is pay, I really see no point in going. I have no passion for what I do anymore. I dreaded the idea of going into my office, getting on a conference call and talking about why our performance