Just in case you ever get these two environments mixed up, this should make things a little bit clearer.
In Prison: you spend the majority of your time in an 10 x 10 cell.
At Work: you spend the majority of your time in an 8 x 8 cubicle.
In Prison: you get three meals a day.
At Work: you get a break for one meal and you have to pay for it.
In Prison: you get time off for good behavior.
At Work: you get more work for good behavior.
In Prison: you get your own toilet.
At Work: you have to share the toilet with some people who pee on the seat.
In Prison: they allow your family and friends to visit.
At Work: you aren’t even suppose to speak to your family.
In Prison: all expenses are paid by the taxpayers with no work required.
At Work: you get to pay all your expenses to go to work, and they deduct taxes from your salary to pay for prisoners.
In Prison: you spend most of your life inside bars wanting to get out.
At Work: You spend most of your time wanting to get out and go inside bars.
In Prison: you must deal with sadistic wardens.
At Work: They are called managers.
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seven o’clock hit and I really wanted a cookie, but since I swore off high fructose corn syrup I couldn’t eat the chip ahoy in my kitchen. so if I was going to get my cookie fix, I was going to have to do it myself. Thats where it hit me, I’ve never made cookies before. Technically I know how to make cookies its flour, butter,sugar, chocolate chips, and an egg to hold it all together.
Is it just me or does it take forever for butter to soften up, I ended up throwing the bar into the houses heating ducts. quickened the softening of butter and brought the wonderful smell of butter to the rest of the house.
its really hard to stop eating cookie dough when you want to eat cookies, that first dip to find out if it taste right is like the opening of the flood gates.
continuing with the story
I ended up eating cinnamon raisin bread with blue berry jam and watching an hour of house. the six cookies that made it into the oven went to my room mates and were only ok,I would describe it as missing soul or maybe it was the goat milk I drank it down with.
Long story short
Don’t make cookies when you want to eat cookies, its not worth it.
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