Talented Failure: The Works of A.T. Prenger

Gainful employment didn't improve my mood. Not like I really expected it to, not completely. I at least thought it would put a dent in it. I figured if I did something which forced me out of my apartment and to be around people that maybe I could break out of my depression. Turned out that there is no more depressing place than working in the mail room of a giant corporation. I didn't even know what the company did as a whole. When Wade asked me what we produced I was at a loss. It was explained to me about a half-dozen times during my week of training and it still didn't stick. They would point to the mission statement, which was on posters all around the office, like that was supposed to be the end-all and be-all. All it was to me was a confusing paragraph filled with meaningless buzz-words and corporate jargon. It didn't really matter. My job wasn’t to understand it, my job was to spend six hours a day opening envelopes and sorting the letters. The last two h...