the office

The office is killing me. And I'm not speaking in metaphors here. It's literally killing me. I'm a sallow ghost, drifting here, stumbling there. Wandering the industrial halls of Ferndale. Competely and utterly unrested.
You know you've made it when you are paying someone to prepare your meals for you. Oprah had Rachel Ray. Richard Simmons had several slender men in various stages of undress. I've managed to secure similar services at a tremendous financial discount. Although I suppose that whatever monetary benefits I may reap are tempered by a lack of sustainable energy, surprisingly stiff arteries, and a life expectancy somewhat south of the expected, even for the most underdeveloped, corrupt, and pestilence ridden areas.
To good health,
H