Diary of a Corporate Whore

You think you know, but you have no idea:

7:00 AM: Alarm rings. Smash snooze button.
7:50 AM: Tired of mashing snooze button. Turn alarm off.
8:20 AM: Consider the merits of emerging from my lair.
8:25 AM: Actually do drag my carcass out of bed.
8:35 AM: Emerge from shower. Pull out towel and dry hair. Spend a few minutes putting contacts on and marveling at how, if I spike my hair, I look like a member of The Prodigy.
8:37 AM: Activate apartment's sound system. The opening chords of "Jacquelyn" fill my living room. While adjusting my tie, I marvel at how I look like I could play guitar for Franz Ferdinand whenever I wear a suit.
8:42 AM: Spending a minute pondering the origins of the term "post-punk bohemian."
8:55 AM: Leave apartment, dash towards Metro.
9:07 AM: Arrive at platform. Peer at Egyptian artifacts in display cases across the platform. Wonder how much each is worth and plan robbery.
9:08 AM: Metro arrives. Robbery postponed for another day.
9:15 AM: The train is not overly crowded today. Position myself around center pole. Some guy, a head shorter than me, slides in-between me and the pole. I catch a whiff of his scalp and nearly retch.
9:22 AM: Metro stops abruptly. Fly forward, spin around pole and crash into some guy. Excuse myself and attempt to disappear before realizing I forgot my cloaking device on the kitchen counter.
9:23 AM: Notice noxious odor permeating subway carriage. Wonder if my suit needs to be washed. Become very paranoid.
9:25 AM: Step out of train and charge up stairwell. Take great pleasure in fact I am first out of the station.
9:30 AM: Pull out security badge and hold card in front of reader. Red light. Exasperated, pull away and turn towards another gate. Predictably, green light suddenly appears.
9:32 AM: Finally reach market room. Sit down at desk, remove jacket, say hello to guy next to me. Cannot see my boss so I check my e-mail.
9:38 AM: Still no boss so I start reading the news.
9:50 AM: No sign of boss so I begin perusing the facebook.
10:10 AM: Boss remains absent. Log onto Bloody Murder and am pleasantly surprised by Laura's update. Thinking of Molly, decide to explain what corporate whoredom is all about. Begin writing article.
10:25 AM: Still no boss and lack of productivity begins to weigh on my conscience. Go through database for the umpteenth time, trying to locate any values which might have changed.
10:41 AM: Co-workers form huddle on other side of desk. Hide behind monitor.
10:52 AM: Wonder what kind of recommendation letter these people could write for me. Resume looking productive.
10:57 AM: What if these people could read my every written word?
11:02 AM: One of the analysts makes laser gun sounds. Somewhere in the distance, a cell phone begins playing the Star Wars theme song.
11:06 AM: Notice every single one of my co-workers has disappeared. Sniff my jacket to determine if stench is causing my solitude.
11:24 AM: Go to bathroom. While there, wrap jacket around my head and inhale deeply. Conclude suit smells better than bathroom and breathe sigh of relief.
11:31 AM: Still no boss in sight. Listen as two women behind me bicker about how little vacation they get; clearly, two months a year is inhumanly tough.
11:43 AM: Wonder if corporate kidnappings are common in France. Devise scheme to retrieve my boss from the clutches of our competitors before she can reveal precious industrial secrets.
11:53 AM: Finish updating. Decide database needs new color scheme. Pink does not seem right. Eventually, settle on black and white and compliment myself for my originality.
12:15 PM: Redo formulae, just to be sure they're correct. Start thinking about lunch. Stare at groups of analysts standing around, chatting. Occasionally, one of their fellows will stand up at his desk to join them in conversation. In doing this, he resembles a gopher popping out of his hole to greet the Midwestern sunshine, aside from the fact that he is probably paid better than his rodent counterpart.
12:23 PM: Consider the probable consequences of replacing our desks with gopher holes. Conclusion: gopher holes would be more comfortable.
12:34 PM: The market room is deserted. Everyone has left to enjoy their mandatory three-hour lunch break.
12:40 PM: I join them.
1:50 PM: Return from lunch. I also notice my screen saver did not activate. Paranoia sets in again. In an attempt to justify my meager salary, I implement a bunch of features that make my database look better but do not actually do anything new.
2:25 PM: Start wondering if I could build a complete Excel chart of every single professional basketball player's performance this year. Decide to do this instead of work. If anyone asks what I am doing, I will tell them I am testing Excel's ability to "draw and interpret data from outside sources."
2:30 PM: After the overdue files for changes, I suddenly realize that, at some point, I typed "10" instead of "1". There is much rejoicing throughout the land. Bonuses will be had by all (with the exception of all interns)!
2:38 PM: Hear sirens in the distance. Desperately try to find something to do before realizing it was just a cell phone.
2:46 PM: My experiment with basketball statistics is a success!
3:09 PM: My database is a finely tuned killing machine at this stage. All it needs are anti-lock breaks and seatbelts. I take a quick walk to go see what happens on the other side of the room.
12:02 AM: Somehow, by innocently walking to the other side of the cavernous market room, I have traveled back in time! Fear of Morlocks drives me back to my desk.
3:13 PM: The guy next to me rather fancies one of the female analysts. We spend the next five minutes discussing her proportions. I am now lazy and lecherous.
3:41 PM: I have taught my database to slice and then sell bread for three times the asking price. I am also amazed by my colleagues' tendency to overuse certain American expressions. For example, if I ever hear someone with a French accent say "Shame on you" again, I will throw them through a window.
3:51 PM: Begin long conversation with Mother on subject of Swift Boat Veterans and John Kerry.
4:19 PM: Still discussing the veterans with Mom.
4:30 PM: One of my colleagues confirms that my boss is not here. I am now sure I remembered to take my medication and that my boss does actually exist.
4:37 PM: Bathroom break. Take note of the fact that all I really want in life is an afro, just like that guy from TV On The Radio.
4:46 PM: Cannot think of anything constructive to do. Decide to focus on my basketball stats project instead. Brilliant.
4:55 PM: Consider leaving early. I also thank my lucky stars that I do not live in Japan, where they would already have induced me to commit ritual suicide for the good of the company.
5:01 PM: Fellow interns accost me. One threatens to dismember me if I do not read my e-mail. The other one makes fun of how little work I have and proceeds to moan about how much she has to do. I tell them to leave; I have an urgent statistics project to complete.
5:02 PM: Start wishing they let us play Solitaire. Begin building basketball database. It is funny how this job has completely altered my priorities; databases are now considered "fun".
5:13 PM: Privately wonder what I will do when I get back to university, besides drink and play soccer.
5:25 PM: A rare beam of sunlight lances through the obscurity of the market room. A couple of the analysts scream and melt.
5:31 PM: The key to earning respect at Cheuvreux is not how hard or how well you work, but when you leave. When my boss was on vacation, I arrived at 10 every morning and left at 5. As a result, I acquired a reputation for laziness in spite of the fact that I finished every single project she assigned me a week ahead of schedule.
5:51 PM: My database now stalks the land, setting fire to desks and burning analysts alive. I have christened it Trogdor.
6:06 PM: I surrender and go home.

Listening to: Matinee - Franz Ferdinand