piles of work.
piles is a good description.
work that looms
tottering in treacerous, terrible, terrifying, tall towers, trembling with tons of terrific trouble trapped tightly, tormented and travailed, waiting for the toil of the time-lagged tasks to transition from then to tomorrow.
emitting the ghastly pong of putrefied deadlines
surrounded by buzzing clouds of outlook reminders
while the boss sniffs around, wagging tail and drooling, searching for rats
and colleagues caw and peck, and fly off with a little bit now and then to squabble over while the pile teeters and wobbles...
and the outsourced independent parties scurry around within, living their own lives, blissfully unaware of the world outside
and distractions sprout in pale clumps in the shady parts, giving you dreams, nightmares, and hallucinations if you pick and eat them. Some can even kill you.
Such is my work. And now I shall return to it.
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