This is official – Adam is bored.

It usually takes him about 3 months to be bored with a job. The learning months, where all is exciting and new. The period of transition, they call it. He calls it the period of heaven; when the adjustment is taking place. New colleagues, boss, paycheck, workplace, routes to and from the workplace, people on a new bus or taxi… To him it represents an umpteenth chance to find fulfillment.

But today he is bored. It has finally caught up.

Adam, Adam, bellows the boss. Where art thou Adam.
Here, my lord, answers Adam.
I see you not, my subordinate – show thy face, and hide not from thy gracious master.
Indeed my lord, yet am I naked.
What, again Adam?
Yes, my lord.
Adam, this is the seventh time that I catch you in the loo, purporting to relieve thyself. What doest though, Adam?
Hiding my face, master, for I am ashamed of what I have been doing for the past few days in the office which thou hast been so kind as to lend to me, on the computer which thou hast been most kind to allow me to use.
Oh Adam, what hast thou done, dear employee?
I have watched Game of Thrones during working hours, my lord.
Game of Thrones? Adam, who tempted thee to commit such a felonious act?
The lady who gave me her hard-drive, my master.
Oh, Adam. Wilt thou have me give up the ghost with vexation of the spirit?
Nay my lord, for I love thee.
Ay, and yet dost it sound wrong, when thou sayest the words in thy nudity. Here, take these thy clothes, and wear them, and leave these premises henceforth. I shall pay thee thy month’s salary in lieu of notice. Behold, I shall assign the guard to keep thee away from these grounds with a flaming sword, that thy deceptive foot never set print on the soil within this erf.
My lord, my cross is too heavy to bear, and thy austerity unusual. I beseech thee – keep me yet for a few more months. I shall serve thee well.
Adam. Fuck off.

That is how he imagines the conversations going if he ever gets caught. He is so bored, he has watched six episodes of G.O.T today. Will life be forever like this, he asks himself? Constant boredom, everywhere he goes? What a weakness, he sighs. What a bloody weakness.

He is a clever man alright, and could set himself up with a nice little enterprise trading in God-knows-what, but he suspects that he would be bored with that too. His "excitement" span is terribly short. He wonders how it took him so long to be bored with this one. A full year he has been here, and for the first time since arriving, he looks at the files on his desk and feels the bile rising at the back of his throat. Oh, there is a stench in the office, he knows that much. The stench of paper. The stench of print. The stench of order, deadlines, reports and documents. Once upon a time the very same smell was an aroma of freshness. Pure lavender. Now, it is rot. The mould has finally set in.

He looks at himself in the bathroom mirror and sighs. Time to update our CV, chap. Bon voyage.


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