I think I know how Locke, a character from my favourite TV programme, Lost, feels. At my part time job I have once again returned to the dingy depths of the garage, surrounded by a fortress of boxes twice my height. I have to haul these boxes down to a height where I can reach, empty the contents into a shredding sack and then try and drag the sacks somewhere within the already jammed garage whilst still keeping the boxes in the garage. It is like the real life version of some sort of flash game, the name of which I cannot remember but it really remind me of some game I played as a kid, how I managed to manoeuvre the boxes and the bags in such a cramped space I do not know. Anyway, it is a job so boring and monotonous it is enough to make anyone want to slit their wrists with the paper for the shredding sacks.  This is how, I am sure, Locke must have felt, not feeling fulfilled in his job at a box factory, and this is exactly how I feel, or would feel if it were my full time job. I was told by a passer by that I must lead a terrible life, after all. However, unlike Locke I probably won't find the purpose of my life on a mysterious island with a smoke monster and a guy who wears a suspicious amount of eye-liner and never ages.

This is actually a promotion from my last job, would you believe it, of de-metalling; which is a glorified staple remover. I thought that was bad but at least then I got to sit on a comfy chair and plug in my iPod. There is no rest in the garage, unless you construct a sofa out of cardboard boxes which I may have done on the odd occasion. Plus, in the safety of an office there is not the constant threat of attack from giant spiders. I cannot complain too much though; it pays pretty well for what it is.

Lyric of the Day: "Savour the moment, because the memory's fleeting" - Easy Target, Blink-182