I'm not talking about two glasses of bubbly after work, I mean that feeling, after 40 hours in an office, where your threshold of self restraint has been busted like a banner gets busted when a football team runs through it. You want excess of SOMETHING.
Booze, Sex, downhill Skiing, it doesn't matter a damn how you get there, you just need the dopamine.
It's that cranky combination of claustrophobia, habituation to the smell in the office air conditioning, physical jitteryness from lots of inactivity and caffeine, sexual frustration and mental fatigue. And, Boredom.
Capitalised, proper-noun, weapons-grade Boredom of the ordinary kind, refined in the workplace into something that can etch glass. Its as bad as being back in high school.
It was fucking dull to be a teenager, as I recall, if you weren't beautiful, sporty and/or had parents that could (and) would dress you in a way that wasn't socially debilitating.
My nickname, for example, was Sargent Obesity because I wore so many clothes from Surplus stores and was, indeed, a proper fat bastard.
It was shit. I found my way through it later in life by loosing 30Kg and buying some proper fucking clothes as soon as I was free of the family home and financially able, but more importantly I came across ideas that inspired me and made me feel that life was worth living.
That, and I finally got laid.
The next guy that tells me that high-school was the best time of his life is going to have me tell him that he is either terribly sad, or was very, very lucky, in addition to the standard Go Fuck Yourself that will accompany either option.
Young people need something to believe in and something useful to do. Until we can give them one or both, I am not going to bitch about it if they smoke a bit of weed and listen to heavy music. Really, this is a symptom, and unless we have something to offer I cannot bring myself to feel overly righteous and/or scandalised.
In fact, I might just ask them for a joint, if they have one going spare.
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