Let me first start off by saying, I work for a wonderful firm and I have learned so much in the last year. I have learned about myself personally and professionally and I credit my job with this immense change in me. However, like any job this position has its up and downs and sometimes has the ability to drive me insane. I find myself stressing over what most people would deem the most mundane of daily things. So, I’ve decided to channel my stress into a satirical piece. It’s coming out in almost poem form but I’m not quite sure if it’s 100% a piece of poetry. I’ll let you all decide.

I entitled this piece, “How do you think it gets there?” Wonderment of how things are placed in the kitchens in my office is a common reaction among the staff I work with. While good majorities of the people are incredibly nice, I have the unfortunate fate of sometimes running into the demanding, needy, and downright rude types as well. Every place as its necessary evils I suppose. Anyway, onto my rant!

“How do you think it gets there?”

How do you think it gets there, that fork, that spoon, that plate?
How do you think it gets there, that seltzer you so anxiously crave?
How do you think it gets there, that hot cup so crucial to your daily fate?
How do you think it gets there, that almond milk that you gripe about its taste?
How do you think it gets there, that coffee packet with that watery taste?

Me, that’s how it gets there, the one who races to make the grade.
Next time you wonder, how it gets there just recall this piece and say “She’s how it gets there, that girl with the resting bitch face”

This is definitely a lot funnier in my head but it has been my constructive form of getting stuff of my chest to date. Hate or love it, I appreciate all types of critics.