27 June 2010
First, set up your cubicle. It's better if you camp out in an austere part of your home (an unfinished basement works) for that authentic "workin' for the man, man" feel. Construct your cube out of bedsheets for maximum cost-effectiveness. Pin TPS reports to your cube "walls" and play annoying beeps on loop. Cube villages always have enough ambient beeping to imitate eighties alien life forms. Convince a friend to act as your boss (a neighbor's dog works too) and pile more TPS reports on your makeshift desk. Drink really horrid coffee, preferably with spoiled half and half. This can be achieved by brewing your mom's Taster's Choice in a gym sock last used while Sweatin' to the Oldies, then left to sit for three days. Have aforementioned friend spam your e-mail with meeting notices, deadlines and over-sent Youtube videos. Increase beeping frequency and volume. Get your cube "neighbor" to loudly whine to her mother on the phone (sample: "He put his socks on the hamper, but not in it! I don't know if this marriage will survive if he keeps doing that. I mean, I make him a rotating, color-coded chore chart every week..."). Practice working diligently, like a good corporate monkey. Leap from your chair at five o'clock and go sit in traffic (i.e., your driveway) for an hour. Collapse gratefully in through your front door, rinse and repeat.
By undergoing this corporate conditioning, you'll make yourself more marketable and be able to more fully understand your employed friends. Or at least you'll pass another unemployed day, and more completely set yourself on that roller-coaster ride of self-delusion.