1950’s – Hey wow this is great. I get to sit at a desk in air conditioning and collect a salary for pushing paper around. This sure beats getting shot at in world war 2 or having to steal apples in the streets like my parents during the depression. In 40 years I’ll retire with a gold watch and play golf in Florida for the rest of my days. God bless America!



1960’s – Sure I have to conform to a corporate dress code and practices while the hippies are getting high in the streets and practicing free love at Haight-Ashbury but conformity isn’t so bad, really. I get a raise every few years and rarely break a sweat.  At the end of the day I get to go home to my suburban home, have a martini and listen to my fancy hi-fi. Hey, somebody has to be the adult in this country. Life is good.



1970′ – This is fine, I guess. In the grand scheme of things my job doesn’t take up too much of my life and I have plenty of time left over to obssess over myself and go to the disco. Plus I’m banging a chick in the steno pool and my wife is too spaced out on Valium and EST to notice. But there has to be more to my life than this, right?



1980’s – I will crush anyone who gets in my way in my climb to the top. Also I need my own office so I can do my cociaine behind closed doors. Stay away from my cocaine.



1990’s – This office job is crushing my soul. I have to follow my passion. I have to find myself.  Office work is an existential nightmare. I am a unique individual with dreams and goals who can’t sit here like a rat in a maze. The one plus is that they don’t drug test so I can still get high every night.



2000’s – Okay, they’ve let half my co-workers go in a seemingly random fashion but if I keep my head  down and don’t complain about anything maybe I can stay off HR’s radar and ride this thing out until the company is inevitably bought out by a foreign entity and my job outsourced to Burma. What? Now they want me to train interns? You mean my replacements! I’m a nervous wreck. Pass the xanax and klonopin



2010’s – Please, I beg you, at least look at my resume. I will intern for free if it means I may someday get paid. Come on, give me a shot. I’ve applied for 50 jobs this month. I have a business degree. I know your ad says I need 5-7 years experience for this entry level job but I promise I’ll work 100 hours a week and do anything you ask as long as I can get out of my parents’ house and pay down my student loans. Also I need health insurance to cover all my addrall. Please tell me you’re hiring. Please?



2020 – Remember offices? 

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