Job Satisfaction Level: All Time Low
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What follows is, without a doubt, the worst thing ever published on Über. We simply must publish it. Don't question our reasoning.
I am suffering, and I am suffering badly. Something terrible is happening, something that threatens to threaten my life in a threatening and terrible way. I am scared and I am anxious about this problem, which quickly grows bigger, larger, and hairier.
You see, I have no professional satisfaction.
Every day, I come to work and spend 8 hours toiling away under the oppressive giant thumb of my manager. The toiling I do mostly involves imagining an elaborate fantasy where I am a famous writer with lots of fans and a large bank account which allows me to not spend 8 hours a day in the office.
For a while, I was doing alright. I could handle sitting in my dark cube every day. It did not bother me. I was not bothered by the fact that, for most of my life, I would not be doing anything productive. I was ok with that.
Then, I got my first paycheck. It was far too low for me to be doing nothing! If I was to be wasting my very valuable time, I would need a bigger paycheck. But I did not recieve a raise.
The next puny paycheck found my morale at an all time low.
My name is Gorbo! I am a giant slug! Look at how my slippery anus leaves a shiny trail wherever I slorp! I slip, I slide, I produce my own lubrication. Please, no salt on my fries! I'm trying to cut down. Do you grok me? I am a slug!
Have you ever seen a slug raise it's anus up and shoot tiny slime bullets like a machine gun? No? I am not surprised. That is because we cannot shoot slime bullets. But being a slug is a good job. I am highly satisfied. Grok me? Grok me?
Quality of this piece: -300!