My "work" is an odd mixture, which keeps me interested and pays the bills.
I occasionally do things with spreadsheets for large corporates. I have been cutting back on this a lot the last few years though as it's soul destroying.
I buy and sell bits of companies when squiggles on their charts look nice.
I help facilitate making people feel happy, horny and in fun company on the interwebs.
Poorly explain what you do for a living!
I micromanage the failings of 300 people in five minute blocks so that overpriced, tiny tin of pork-n-beans is on the shelf when you wander in at three o'clock in the morning.
Me and some other folks push the buttons and twiddle the dials that make the company's computers go beep and boop.
(which, come to think of it, might be too on point for this thread)
I manage crowds of tiny humans and make sure they're all still alive and breathing at the end of the day.
I am a corporate pirate. Aaaargh!
I used to take pretty pictures of bugs and birdies and stuff. Then great uncle died. Now I just tell the nice man in San Francisco which shoe box to put the money in.
I turn up at peoples homes every two or three weeks, make a lot of noise, blow lawn clipping from their paths and then go to the next place.
I sit on my fat ass at a server terminal signing off on the work of a bunch of other people sitting on their fat asses at their server terminals generating unbelievable amounts of digital legal documents so still other people can move in and out of their homes.
I git up, start the coffee, feed the cats, pour the coffee, scroll through the Lush forum, eat oatmeal and go outside and pretend to do stuff in my shop. Then watch tv, take a shower, read in bed until I get sleepy, go to sleep and repeat.
Spectre of your Eleventh Grade English Teacher
I nag mostly engineers and managers to follow the rules so that every three years our company can get a piece of paper that says we follow the rules.
I sit at a computer terminal and count how many customers log in and how many errors they produce.
I research material under the most stupid restrictions they can dream up
In the world's harsh wear and tear many a very sincere attachment is slowly obliterated.
Είμαι ταξιδιώτης τόσο στο χρόνο όσο και στο διάστημα
I gracefully model computer headsets while issuing instructions to annoying humans who reluctantly complete their assigned tasks then try to hide before I can find them and give them even more work. I spend approximately 50% of my day disagreeing with disagreeable people all of whom will come around to agree with me in approximately 60 days despite receiving absolutely zero new information to change their minds. For this enormous patience on my part I am then handsomely rewarded.
I bang on stuff with a hammer and occasionally try to run over people that get in the way
Best friend for hire. I charge hourly.
I transform people's lives, elevating their souls to places they never dreamed they could go.
Mostly I get paid for it...
I deal with millions of logs every day, axing them in tiny pieces, looking at them. I try to find the little bit that can tell me there is a worm, warning me that we have an infection. Then, when I find one, I get my gear and find the source and scorch the whole thing to make sure the infection is contained. So, I hack infections out of the company.
"insensitive prick!" – Danielle Algo
I type on my laptop all day so people have something to interact with on their phones and in their browsers.
=== Not ALL LIVES MATTER until BLACK LIVES MATTER ===
These are great.
Keep them coming!
I make calls to remind humans of date/hr and help when it comes to fix their chiclets:some aren't so bad.
Oh, I purposely rub my tits on their chest when leaning over them and will ask them to spit into cup.
They really love the chair that goes up and down but then again, so do I.
I take all day exploring Mother Nature.
I dream while awake, sleep until the show starts, create stories that are never going to come true, share love where it is truly needed, then I wonder if it really ever has to end.
I direct electrons into esoteric mazes so that numerologists can divine gibberish to tell our overlords, who then use this knowledge to either pour gold into blackholes or purchase herds of white elephants and expect people to thank them for it.
When no one is looking, I write smut on my phone.
Woould love to see your shoe box collection some day as well aw your birdies and bugs, etc.
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