This morning I sat down and started writing a piece that's been in my head for months. Since I've submitted it for consideration to a magazine, I'll only post the opening paragraph for now, but I'm pretty excited that it poured out in just 90 minutes.
By Andrea Warner
A headset is the modern equivalent to the albatross—a tether to a miserable existence comprised of a coffin-like cubicle, a square desk scribbled with markings, and a chair that squeaks with every passing pound one accumulates while taking the never-ending stream of calls from people with varying degrees of comprehension and ignorance. I am an inbound call centre employee for a chatline company. I am a desk job sex trade worker.