Bob Slydell: You see, what we're actually trying to do here is, we're trying to get a feel for how people spend their day at work... so, if you would, would you walk us through a typical day, for you?
Peter Gibbons: Yeah.
Bob Slydell: Great.
Peter Gibbons: Well, I generally come in at least fifteen minutes late, ah, I use the side door - that way Lumbergh can't see me, heh heh - and, uh, after that I just sorta space out for about an hour.
Bob Porter: Da-uh? Space out?
Peter Gibbons: Yeah, I just stare at my desk; but it looks like I'm working. I do that for probably another hour after lunch, too. I'd say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work.
Bob Slydell: I'd like to move us right along to a Peter Gibbons. Now we had a chance to meet this young man, and boy that's just a straight shooter with upper management written all over him.
- Office Space, 1999
So where were you all that time? What can you account for this lost time of your life? Is it measurable?? A week after my release, a friend in conversation offered a perversion of a college career visual that startled me to the core. He took a tape measure from the kitchen drawer and pulled out my age in inches. He asked me to estimate an arbitrary age when the quality of life is recognized as heading downhill. I thoughtlessly chose 80 just to be compliant since i was used to his joke style. "Okay", he says as i balance the long reach of the tape on the table and adjust my 55 inch/year mark under my eyes. My past life, gone for good, was practically out the window, and in my immediate field of vision were the inches i have left, if i live that long.
Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'
-Uncle Bob D.
Analysis of Things Past
