T.G.I.F.

I live in front of a computer screen,
I’m a cubicle dweller…you know what I mean?
I click on my mouse, and I type here and there,
I’m soft in the middle and I’m getting gray hair.

I make frequent trips to the ole water cooler,
To the bathroom, the fridge, and the print machine spooler.
8 hours go by with a break for some grub,
But it’s always too slow, and aye, there’s the rub,

‘Cause it seems I’m the only one working today,
My neighboring cubicles are empty and gray,
And I’m worried I’m missing some new holiday,
That everyone’s off being happy and gay,
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There are much better things to do than to stay
At work and find tasks to fill up my day,
There are movies to watch, video games I could play!

I wish I could make a run for the door,
And break free from the tedious rigorous bore,
But you see I’m not that kind of guy anymore,
My gray-haired soft middle is weighed to the floor.

So I’ll sit and find interesting things on the Net,
And design some great new marketing piece yet,
You might think I’m some kind of mindless drone coward,
But I’m not worried…Yo, I get paid by the hour!