Arbeit macht frei

I felt like a concentration camp inmate yesterday. Slowly dragging the whole Sunday from twelve  in the afternoon till Nine in the evening doing stuff for the bosses. With my laptop and Powerpoint decks as substitute for ball and chains, I slowly Arbeit macht freitrudged  the lonely hill of data dumps and graphs till just before i wrote this dying worker’s brain fart. Leaden-eyed and with my mental sinews flaccid, i faintly remembered the camp motto on all the labor camps that jolly ol’ Adolph  had installed on all the gates welcoming those to be gassed: Arbeit macht frei (Work makes one free). Funny but I seem to agree. Work drowns away the pain of time and senselessness. It puts things into perspective just like a poor man’s Prozac to life’s depressions…it brings about a semblance of purpose and order. It takes away  the feeling from the fact that you are about to be burned to a feathery grey chaff of an existence. I guess atleast the architects of the gas chambers got it right on that point.