I Sold My Soul for a $2,000 bonus and a coffee machine

Sigh, damn y'all. It's been a long 8 days. It's 11pm and I'm in my nightie WORKING. WTF! This isn't what was supposed to happen. In my fantasy, I walk into my office, throwing open the draperies and opening the window to let in the fresh air. I walk to the Flavia machine and have a conversation with one of several hotties who work on my floor. I finish all of my work by 10am and then participate in creative brainstorming sessions for the rest of the day, ordering lunch from the nearest French bistro.

Uh, so it really goes something like this: I walk into my windowless office, throw my bag down, run to the Flavia machine and engage in conversation with some intern who most likely knows a lot more than I do. I frantically scan through the 20,000 newsletters I receive every morning on topics I don't care care about but need to know. I start on my neverending project with the totally unrealistic deadline and curse my "boss" for throwing this complicated shit on me. Damn you excel! Damn you to hell!

Funny thing is, I still don't want my old job back...