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By Tamara Binsfeld

I'm really not feeling it

The Veteran's Day arctic expedition

The unseasonable assault of

Nature offended

The Garden of Eden in

Full on revenge

Waiting for corporate cupidity to die for it's own sins

Instead of this hamster wheel of vicarious atonement

Braving the elements for a lousy fifty bucks

This sucks

I'm not even sure

What's right anymore

Doing what they say when

They never do what I do

Not like I can't or won't or even shouldn't, for that matter

Just that I don't want to

And half a pot of coffee, a big bowl of oatmeal, and a modified version of Chloe Ting's ab workout have yet to fuel my resolve

Knowing my heels will be dug into half a foot of snow

Whether I go to work or not

But at least if I stay home, I can shovel at my leisure

Without being exhausted by achy old biddies

Sitting pretty in the assisted living facility I'll never be able to afford

Reciting the spoiled rotten croakery of a long expired generation

As I type out my very own death sentence

On bald tires and bad rotors

For a boss who insults me under their breath

For doing what they say

Not what they do

All while being the element they themselves are afraid to brave

A living, breathing parable

A mirror to how terrible they truly are

The lowest bar

The legislators of slave labor

Sharing the holiday meal with their families

Ignoring the famine afflicting their serfs

A lousy 50 bucks

And no fucks to give for it

Anyone want to join me?

I think I'm calling out after all

About the author
As a writer, Tamara Binsfeld is a polyamorous whore, carelessly flinging her deepest thoughts against the wall for anyone to casually lick like a Blarney stone for the broken. But in the real world, she's made a name for herself telling the boss how much she hates her job, and dedicates her spare time to curling bars for the revolution, never ending fasting rituals, and perfecting the pose of chihuahua furniture.