I Live in Venezuela?
Photo 1, through a shop window in my neighborhood:
Photo two, from a BBC report on "Venezuela's informal economy," which I stumbled upon by chance the following day:
The last few days at work have been a banal hell of endless typing, staring at Excel documents until the contact lenses fuse to the eyeballs, shivering in an inexplicably air-conditioned room when the ambient air is damn well cold enough, explaining simple processes step-by-step to well-meaning but cripplingly unimaginitive middle management, slouching in a hard seat hour upon hour until the back aches, and a few of the other things that make office work so rapturously sweet that I wish I could keep doing it for ever and ever. I'm off to a good start---
3 comments:
Welcome to America's formal economy. My sister went to Berkeley for grad school, and at graduation someone streaked naked across the stage with a banner that said "Welcome to the Machine".
Of course, you can always jump ship. Just have a thousand cash and a good idea.
A thousand cash, just barely. I'm all out of good ideas, though.
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