At training camp, you brainwash yourself into thinking every, day is the same, no weekends or holidays. It's all the same - a work day. You develop a mental state to just work hard and get ready for the fight.
Frankly, I am boring. My life is all about the film set, gym classes, and home.
Working from nine till five every day at something that gives you no pleasure just so that, after thirty years, you can retire.
Term, holidays, term, holidays, till we leave school, and then work, work, work till we die.
I live in a room and I go to work and I play a game called getting through the day while you wait for the night.
I've got a new pair of trainers. That's the only difference in my life since I started working for Amazon.
Commuter — one who spends his life In riding to and from his wife ;, A man who shaves and takes a train And then rides back to shave again.
Note that commuting was an already established pattern in America by 1929.
The irony is, going to work every day became the subject of probably my best poetry.
I didn't have a life. Basically, for 40 years it was my work and my nose was to the grindstone the whole time.
It isnot good enough tospend time and ink indescribing the penultimate sensations and physical movements of people getting into a state of rut, we all know them so well.
I grow ominously tired of official confinement. Thirty years have I served the Philistines, and my neck is not subdued to the yoke. You don't know how wearisome it is to breathe the air of four pent walls without relief day after day, all the golden hours of the day between ten and four without ease or interposition ... these pestilential clerk-faces always in one's dish. O for a few years between the grave and the desk!
I come from a very normal day job, a very normal upbringing, so I had six or seven years working in an office nine to five in human resources. I had the normal life and kind of thought maybe this is what I'm going to do for the rest of my life but still had that passion and that yearning for music.
When I first started drinking, it was working for me. It was great. Like when you're doing a gig and you're in a band and you're in the truck and there's nothing to do in the truck and the gigs are all the same and the hotels are all the same...it's the hotels, the car, the gig.
The same dish cooked over and over again wears out the irksome life of the teacher.
I think it's rather a waste of time endlessly singing the same songs every night for a year, and it's just not what I want to do.
Someday I might have to put down a basketball and have a regular 9-to-5 like everybody else.
I don't think there is a life in the mundane 9-to-5 hypocrisy. That's not living.
Eventually, I just couldn't imagine myself being in a cubicle for my entire career.
I always liked routine. I suppose I never found boredom very boring. I doubted I could explain it to someone like Margo but drawing circles through life struck me as a kind of reasonable insanity.
You work, you get paid, you drink.
I like to go to work, and also, I don't have any kids. I don't have any hobbies. I don't like to travel. So going to work is kind of it.
Getting up every day and going through this again and again is hard.
There's something about [cyclically] doing something over and over and over that seems to be particularly demotivating.
When you've toured for about 10 years like me, you end up feeling like you're always waiting for somebody or something. The whole day is a drag.
Some men like a dull life - they like the routine of eating breakfast, going to work, coming home, petting the dog, watching TV, kissing the kids, and going to bed. Stay clear of it - it's often catching.