072713 Wait. When I wake up flashing *I hate my job,* what I really mean is I hate being hung over, I hate feeling alienated and disconnected, I hate not being sure what to do next, I hate being awkward, I hate feeling like a perpetual new guy, I hate how much I'm spending on gas, I hate the feeling of futility, I hate being subordinate to a twenty-something punk ass bitch of a self satisfied little man who has no use for cosmology, I hate how I act towards the girls when I'm stressed and tired, I hate feeling like I have no self-control or self-determination, I hate my big drooping tits like slow motion dollops of liquid flesh, and I hate the feeling that I've spent years shoving all my money and energy down self-absorbed blind alleys. Oh and the drug tests. But yeah, the job itself is actually fine.