Repetition is the act of something being repeated. Like this pattern above. Squares, circles and triangles being repeated seemingly infinitely. As I look at the pattern I think of my job. Box after countless box being sorted. Endless repetition. It’s monotonous. Especially when an entire semi-trailer is going to the same location. You stand in one spot for an hour and throw box after box onto a conveyor belt. The only thing that breaks the monotony is when boxes jam and pile up and everything is thrown into disorder. And I stand there and wonder why in the world I’m doing this. Working this hard, breaking my back and arms for not that much money. Because I have to. I’m grateful I have a job. But it feels so meaningless. Especially as the guy standing next to you, the one that’s been there for years, says “F*cking new people…They work so hard, thinking they can make a difference. They’re f*cking idiots.” Or the guy that tells you not to stay here because it will make you crazy, as he goes on to get in a screaming match with an unloader. But it’s a job that has to be done, and I need money. And there are countless other jobs being worked by countless other people just like me. Day after day after day.