Today my job consisted of editing a book of sex fantasies. I spent most of the time trying to identify the right alternatives for phrases like “getting off” or “getting it on” or “shagging”, keeping up the variety but also maintaining the essentially vanilla blandness and making it acceptable for Americans, who don’t understand any of the words used in any other countries, apparently.
Other people in the office kept looking at me suspiciously, because I spluttered every time I saw a heading like “Paul’s story: I like to be spanked”, or the section that kept dwelling on footware and the delectable smell of peoples’ feet.
I am only in this job another two days. I quit because, well… essentially because the boss is unbearable. I have elected to go and do something more boring, because basically I am sick of working so hard while being paid what I recently learnt is less than the average new-graduate wage.
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