01.17.08 :: 5:07 pm
everything i have ever suspected about LA work ethic and LA people in general is true.
That they are a bunch of thin-skinned, shallow airheads.
That because it's a twisted, backwards environment where you must speak to personal assistants like they hold your life in their hands and the CEO like he's a toddler, you get in trouble for stepping out of this norm.
That my depression regarding LA life is holding me back workwise and potential-wise.
That I can't get excited about anything and the prospect of toughing it out another year gives me the dry heaves.
Also, I may be the only living soul in the joint who wants to be more than just her job.
What's the point of your life if all you have is your job?
Being scolded for being able to forget your job when you go home every night is sickening. I'm perplexed because I can't be in love with spreadsheet after pointless spreadsheet; i've never seen so much unecessary paperwork in my entire life and the absence of a proper system to manage it all...
And yet these brainless little robots are so happy to work 12-13 hour days, and for what? A fixed raffle once a year?
So. Is it better to just fake it and smile along and play Happy Robot until I give birth?
If I can't be happy here can I ever be happy anywhere?