Workman's Comp.

I think my job is causing me to develop a mild form of autism. In my ongoing effort to kill as much time as possible during the day I’ve started doing things like writing words in bubble letters and spending several minutes filing them in. These include such things as my name, the names of people I know, and telling phrases like “I hate my job,” “It’s only Tuesday,” and “I am so bored.”

I have also started covering pads of paper with drawings of things like people I’ve slept with and fruit. This first habit is clearly a sign of my declining mental health; how many stable people over five do you know who can spend a half hour solidly absorbed in coloring within the lines? The second one would be less disturbing if I wasn’t such a terrible doodler. The people I sketch always end up looking like the victims of the same kind of hideously deforming birth defects and I’m kind of worried that one of my co-workers will catch a glimpse of what I’m doing and decide I’m a serial killer.