It’s a Hard Knock Life

Very few people like their job.

People like making money. They like the fact that they know that they are supporting themselves. That they are doing a task. That they are fulfilling responsibilities.

But people hate the actual act of waking up in the morning and walking into their office building to do a specific task. The best part of people’s days are never the actual performing of their job. No one is going to eat dinner on a given night, and when asked, “So anything good happen today?” is going to answer that question with — “Yeah, man! I submitted that report I had been working on all week. It was great!”

No matter how productive or even enjoyable any given day of work was, it still doesn’t top the feeling of leaving and going home. That is the best part of everybody’s day. Leaving work, and getting the hell home so they can take off their pants and jerk off. Or do whatever the hell it is they do when they get home.

However, that all being said, there are some days at work where you actually reap the benefits of your particular job. But it’s rare. There’s almost never anything Facebook-worthy that one does at work.

When the most brag-worthy thing about your job is the fact that you get the occasional box of chocolates sent to you by your significant other, or that your employer sporadically throws you guys an office party — then your job sucks.

I’ll be the first to admit that my job is boring as hell. Sure, it’s more exciting than a day in the life of, say, an accountant, but what the hell does that mean? A day in the life of a snail is more riveting than a day in the life of an accountant. Actually, scratch that — a snail’s life is much more exhilarating.

Every now and then, however, I do get to do something kind of cool. Sometimes I stand outside of a police manhunt, waiting for something exciting to happen. Occasionally I get to meet a professional athlete from a major New York sports team. One time I met Kiristi Yamaguchi. I’ve also spoken to Debbie Gibson over the phone — twice.

But all of that paled in comparison to the person with whom I crossed paths with today. I’ll give you one hint — He’s got 99 problems, and THE WEINBLOG AIN’T ONE.

Jay-Z’s celebrity is almost indescribable. Actually, just calling him a celebrity doesn’t do it justice.

Carly Rae Jepsen is a celebrity. Johnny Knoxville is a celebrity. Jay-Z is a global figurehead. Even a filth-ridden Rwandan child who hasn’t eaten for two weeks and who has never seen a television in his life knows who Jay-Z is.

But no, sadly I did not get to meet Jay-Z. I did not get the opportunity to converse with Jay-Z.

Nor did I get the opportunity to “Shop with Jay, play box with Jay.”

I did stand a mere six or seven feet away, though, and snap of photo of him with my camera phone. And that’s the most interaction than any of you probably ever had with the man in your life, so back off.

But seriously, it’s amazing how he has the ability to just command a room. That photo was taken in Mineola, Long Island, during a press conference for business groups to lay out their proposals to renovate the Nassau Coliseum. Jay-Z, who was originally part of the group who did the same thing with the Barclays Center in Brooklyn, is once again involved.

He showed up about two or three minutes late to the conference, and when he walked in, the room just went silent. And within seconds, all you could hear was the click of cameras. And that’s what makes him so valuable as a business partner — name recognition.

Just talking about Jay-Z will probably get this blog like… one… extra hit that it wouldn’t have had otherwise. Thanks Jay. I’ll PayPal you the .003 cent royalty. I know how desperately you need it.

So that was my day. No big deal, really. Just doing my job, crossing paths with celebrities like Jay-Z.

And I’m allowed to brag about it. Because, as I said, jobs are boring as shit 99.9 percent of the time. I refrain from publicly advertising my office parties. I don’t Instagram a new photo of my desk redecoration. Nor do I post funny observations my cubicle mates make throughout the day. Because no one cares. Nothing is more boring and more torturous to read on Facebook than when people post about what they believe is a “funny moment” at work.

The worst culprit of this is teachers. I pull my hair out when I read a teacher friend of mine post something like, “So a few kids in my class just came up to me and said [Insert shockingly unfunny statement regardless of the age of the person who said it]! I have the BEST students ever!!!” 22 people like this.

Sorry, but why would anybody care about what a bunch of 8-year-olds who they don’t even know said or did? And honestly, if you’re an age that can be counted with one digit, and you’re not a relative of mine, then I really don’t give a shit about anything that you ever do. I have a hard enough time pretending to care about the lives of my 25-and-older friends, so why in God’s name would I waste a particle of my brain caring about a 7-year-old who goes to some elementary school in Glen Cove?

So, because of that — on a day where I get to be near Jay-Z, you’re God damn right I’m going to tell the whole world about it.

Big Pimpin’, bitch.

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