In the Office of President John McPyre

You wanna hear my latest fable of enough? Last year one of our department secretaries took early retirement on account of a back injury she got carrying office supplies out to her car. One of the faculty lives in her town—tells me she just opened an office supply store.
Outrage, the sails that hate the wind.
The American work day with its built-in vacation, the radio on, the kidding around, the ants in the pants break-taking. There used to be two kinds of job, one you could get up and go to the bathroom whenever you wanted, and the other you had to wait, but now nobody waits—and there's nothing to work towards.
Look at this, the competition, look at these catalogues, these crap classes for the BFA. Developing first draft screenplays out of news reports. Moderating internet chat rooms. Look at this one: Your mind is an all-terrain vehicle—how are we supposed to compete with that? But look on the bright side—these days anything a twenty year old can do a twelve year old can do better. We might get left with the old ones.