Excerpt from an email written to a friend
I have so long tired of working in an environment where speaking with people of our race is split between broken English concealed through thick African accents and/or institutionalized Ebonics. Where subject matter rarely rises above sports or the appeal of some woman’s phat ass. In every work place employees gripe about the job and employer, but here there is so little understanding of what is really going on with rampant running rumors regarded as truths. I get so frustrated and bored while trying to keep myself connected via role play of the quirky, silly old man that I tend to lose my imagination and seek refuge hiding behind the quiet excuse of, “I’m fine. Just a little tired from working so many hours” when I can’t feign a happy go lucky mood.
Recently, I’ve been separating myself off into more solitaire job duties so that I don’t have to listen to or be a part of the usual workplace conversations. Every day that I go into that place I find myself starving for mentally stimulating conversation with people who actually appreciate good grammar and speech. Then I start drifting off into some new (or rehashed) photo idea where frustration quickly arises upon the realization that I’m nowhere close to being able to try such ideas.
Usually, at the end of the work day I’m physically exhausted from trying to keep myself mentally active and upbeat. I drag myself into my house and pitter around unable to conjure up enough energy to do anything useful. Blargh. Tough times, but I’m overcoming them step by step.
An honest description of my daily struggle.