On Work Ethic

Histrionic diary entries, angsty yearbook scrawlings, and really bad poetry brought back from teenagerhood and the other side of cool. Dates may be omitted and names may have been changed, but rest assured these are legit.

In a very special edition of Before We Were Cool, we feature two different diary entries on the same topic.

Diary Entry, 19 years old

“Getting up anytime before 10 depresses me. I do like work because I like the fact that I’m doing something with my life, but let’s face it, I hate actually working. I hate it. If I were rich, I probably would opt not to do it. I hate having my nights taken away, because that’s my favorite time of day. I hate the fact that I’ve lost touch with pretty much most of my friends because I work during the day and sleep at night. I hate stress that sucks but is too boring for me to even talk about.”

Diary Entry March 4, 1998, 20 years old

“Okee, looking back on the last entry. Yes, I AM cut out to be a composer, but, true, I DON’T work hard enough. So… that’s easy enough to overcome, I’ll just work harder. Dammit, I’ve been planning all afternoon to go sit in the sun in the park when I get off work, now here it is five minutes before I get off and the sun goes behind a fucking cloud. NY pisses me off sometimes.”

Note from the future: NO, I was NOT cut out do be a composer. But it’s true that I never worked all that hard. So lazy, me. Truly.