I started a new job a few days ago, my first office job in over a year. 

It's at a law-firm, and I'm the file-clerk, which is pretty much the lowest person on the totem pole, but that's okay because I have no ambition of moving ahead, it's just a way to pay for my playwriting without having to turn tricks anymore. I was getting a little too old for that, anyway.

There are things I certainly didn't miss about working a 9-5'er: annoying morning and evening commutes with hordes of dumb people on their smart phones (including the guy standing next to me, who texted, "I miss your pussy" followed by "Happy Birthday Mom." I sure hope they weren't to the same woman!), shaving, waking up before 10, having awkward office conversation. Also, I have a secret fear of walking in on something I'm not supposed to (fueled by dreams of stumbling into a mafia joint and getting shot to death) so the lunch room presents some obstacles.

Yet, I realized that there were things I did miss: the sense of completion you get when the work day is over, free coffee, listening to others have awkward office conversation. And, oh yeah, the fucking paycheck! The most important thing.
Because, really, who cares what you do as long as you have enough money to pay for brunch and buy a shirt with some kind of animal on it.

I bought some shirts at the mall the other day. Stop judging me, I can act like a teenage girl if I want to.

I got home and decided the shirts made me look fat. So, I took'em back.

"Why you returning these?" asked the lady behind the counter. She was ferocious, like a tiger or a nun, and scared the fuck out of me. I didn't think she would respond to reason or human compassion, so I lied.

"My boyfriend bought them for me, and I don't like them."

Boyfriend? I haven't had a boyfriend, like ever. Unless you count a promise I made in the second grade and never fulfilled. Yet, here I was, lying through my teeth, and hoping that having a guy who didn't know my tastes was more socially acceptable than feeling tubby.

"Happens to me all the time. Men are damn fools," she said. She smiled, and I returned the favor, happy to have won this lady over. So, it's ok to lie. As long as no one gets hurt.