8 hours

The curse of working might be that every day seems to dissolve into one. So much so that I have difficulty distinguishing one day from the next. I see the same faces and have the same conversations every single day. It's like one long dream.

I pass the receptionist on my way to the washroom a number of times day. Every time I pass I feel obligated to smile and say "how are ya?!" She smiles and says "great and you?" And I smile and say "good thanks!" and walk quietly on my way. She's a genuinely nice person, but I truly don't need an update on the status of her day every hour or so. But that is the obligation thrust upon me by the working world. Upon reaching the washroom, there is inevitably someone there and we dance our way through the same conversation that I had moments earlier. It's like one long inane chat. And on my way back to my desk I feel obligated to say something to the receptionist again. I'll throw in something like, "Only 2 more hours to go!" or I'll say "can't wait for the weekend!" with a grin on my face. Anything to fill the awkward 3 second moment of silence that occurs when I pass her desk. She'll laugh in commiseration. A few seconds later I am back in a room full of people and repeat this sort of conversation on a much grander scale.

Now I can't stay boring for long, and every so often I will throw in a witty remark to remind them that it is possible to add some creativity to the conversation. A suggestion that they have not taken to as yet.

OK, so a slight exaggeration. But I made my point.

Lord, TGIF..... have a great weekend!