My Own Prison

The analogy isn’t new….I’m just reiterating it.

I come to work every day and sit in my cube. I have to be here from around 7:30-6:00. This is my prison. Sometimes I have meetings.....I guess you’d consider these like work duty in the prison…you have to go, there is an agenda that must be followed in terms of the discussion and there is minimal swaying or discussion outside the agenda. Is that really any different than going to the laundry for work duty in the prison….you go, you stand there in your position (rather than sit in your seat) and grab the shirts as they are coming out and put them in the next bin or fold them or whatever. The only non-agenda item of note is the occasional discussion with the person next to you…..just like in a meeting…you can occasionally turn over and make a wise-crack to the person next to you but for the most part that is the only discussion. Watching one of your co-workers (or yourself god forbid) getting abused by a superior for a poor work product would be the equivalent of seeing another inmate (or god forbid you) get pulled behind the large dryer for a good knifing, beating or gang-raping. It’s the same.

Training day is like the yard……pretty much confined to my Cell….I mean cube for most of my sentence…..I mean career but every now and then I get out for training. Just like they get out in the yard. In training I can talk with other colleagues a bit more freely, I can sit with those I want to sit with rather than those I’m celled up with or on work duty with (in meetings with). There are frequent breaks that allow me time to joke around and discuss our joint misery in groups. The speakers are the equivalent to the guards who are supposed to be listened to or appear as someone of authority but nobody is paying any attention to them. Unless you cause a riot (ask a question in the training) they pretty much just leave you alone.

Fact is if I was in prison I could actually do more with myself…..people get goddamn law degrees in prison….I can’t do that at work. If it wasn’t for the gang-rapes and beating I’d think it’s a nice place to be. Maybe I could go to prison and work on a degree and become a sports agent. Then I could live the good life.