Like so many other office workers of the world, I will obey my master, the clock, and will obediently nod to my co-workers and make small talk about sports, kids and weather - all things I'm not genuinely interested in.

My life is ticking away one subway token at a time - a never ending pirouette of arriving and departing, pushing through turnstiles, nodding goodbye and hello. In eight hours I'll be allowed to turn around and go home.

I wonder what the difference is between love and lust.

It's easy to be cynical; harder is remembering that on any given day the person beside you on the subway or taking to long to pay for a tub of yogurt at the supermarket could be going through something tremendous and sorrowful and arduous.

Sometimes I wonder why the corporate world is seen as a god choice for those of us that will never rise above clerical work and general administration.

I'm trustworthy and true and a whole of other positive words that start with T.

If life is a journey, time should pull over at a rest stop sometimes - we should all be given a chance to get off and stretch our legs, collect our thoughts and reorganize.