9 to 5, January 14th
I am working but it isn't.
It's my first day at work. I was there on time, but nobody else was. Was wearing my new suit. Spent the morning waiting, sorting stuff out and settling in. Just a regular first day. Will have to work extra hours though because still not everything is sorted out (I am showing initiative). I've got no internet in my room and there are difficulties with putting images online. I like the room I'm working in, though. Only that there are too many chairs. This makes me feel lonely. But there is a ventilation system that makes a comforting nerve-wracking humming sound.
Tomorrow, I will have my second first day ...
will make art for food
means of production
You did think you were dressed to the occasion, but then you realise that through your new white shirt everyone can see your nipples.
You might as well be standing there with no shirt at all.
John wrote to me in an email:
"The first thing you've told me about your work this week is that you will take breaks, and quit at five. I don't know what you are doing, but I know you aren't doing it all the time. That must be what defines it as work."
Why are the breaks so important? What I am proposing for this week has to do with a certain desire for alienation ... (I should try to define this more clearly over the course of the week ...)
(I am doing this quite a lot:
"..."
But it is the first day ...)
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